The Holy Son in Marvel

To be honest, Solomon was familiar with the name Abigail Williams, but each universe had its own lore surrounding the Salem witch trials, with differing details. Although he had detected traces of otherworldly magic in the office, he couldn't determine its exact origin, nor could he pinpoint which "version" of Abigail Williams this one belonged to. In this world, after all, the most absurd things were possible. The only certainty was that these magical traces originated from an extradimensional source. Solomon's mission was to locate and either banish or eliminate the source of this incident.

Solomon adjusted the leather strap over his shoulder, which was digging in uncomfortably. The rapier that usually hung at his waist had been replaced by a wooden box strapped to his back. The Grandmaster had insisted Solomon carry the Sword of Victory, believing he might encounter a battle meeting its unlocking conditions, making the sword a valuable aid.

It had been a full day since Solomon prepared for the mission and departed. During this time, he had thoroughly prepped and even made a call to Bayonetta, explaining the situation and leaving messages for Jeanne and the Cheshire Cat, warning them he might not return tonight. Bayonetta, understanding his circumstances, even threatened to storm Kamar-Taj with her handgun if he didn't come back after completing the mission.

Upon opening a portal to the outskirts of Salem, Solomon's phone rang again. He glanced at the screen; it was Nick Fury. After a moment's hesitation, he answered. Fury immediately demanded details about an incident in New York that night. The recent actions of the Merlin School had already drawn Fury's attention, especially as satellites had detected energy readings over New York. Fury suspected magic was involved and insisted on confirmation from Solomon, unable to tolerate any potential public safety risk.

"This is Kamar-Taj business; it's been handled. Don't send in your agents. If they die at the hands of a dark sorcerer, the mystics won't avenge them," Solomon replied tersely, holding his phone in one hand and a glowing crystal orb in the other as he trudged through the soft, leaf-strewn country path. Using the crystal to precisely track the source of the strange magic, he pressed onward, although Fury's call was an unwelcome distraction.

"Contracts, Solomon," Fury argued. "This could be a public safety risk. Remember Clause Thirty—if there's a potential threat, you're supposed to notify S.H.I.E.L.D. to evacuate people."

"If I haven't notified you, it means it's not a public threat," Solomon replied, clearly irritated. "You don't need to panic."

"Panic?" Fury's voice rose. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has a registry of people with special abilities. Do you know what qualifies for 'extremely dangerous'? We're talking about an amoral information technician, a thug who gained superhuman strength through chemical enhancement but lacks brains, and a woman with blades embedded in her fingertips. But none of them compare to you, Solomon Damonet. Tell me, how am I not supposed to worry? And why are you in Salem? Halloween's over; you're a bit late for a party."

"This has nothing to do with you—it's my mission. And don't even think of tracking my location. Magic incidents aren't for ordinary people; they're beyond human understanding, unless you want them to go insane." Using a small, glowing orb for light, Solomon noticed a trail of tiny footprints in the fallen leaves. He followed them until he reached a secluded cave.

"Especially this time…I don't even know what I'll be facing…"

Solomon's voice began to break up, and Fury watched as the signal on his screen weakened before disappearing entirely, leaving him with a sense of foreboding. The mystic's strange, ominous words right before the signal dropped clung to Fury's mind like a dark shadow.

After a brief hesitation, Fury decided to send his most trusted agents to the location where the signal had vanished. He couldn't afford to place the public's safety entirely in Solomon's hands. Although he'd deployed most of his agents across New York to track down other mystics, he kept a few unassigned for situations like this. For Fury, taking precautions was always better than unnecessary risks.

Solomon glanced at his phone. Although the screen was lit, the signal was gone, which was no surprise. Following the crystal ball and the footprints had led him deep into the narrow cave—unlikely territory for reliable cell coverage. But this mission was anything but ordinary. The footprints stopped at the cave's end, with no sign of a return trail. The Eye of Agamotto also showed no further leads.

Lighting up the area with a dancing light spell, Solomon carefully examined his surroundings. Even after casting a minor divination spell, Detect Secret Doors, he found nothing else—just the prints ending at the stone wall of the cave. While unsettling, this wasn't particularly frightening for Solomon, as he'd seen stranger things in the magical world. Deciding to pause his search, he left the cave, intending to retrace his steps and look for more clues. He stowed the crystal ball and walked back out.

Yet, as he exited the dark cave, he froze at the sight that greeted him. Beyond the shadowed mountains lay a horizon tinged with sunset hues. Far in the distance, he saw a tall, white-painted wooden spire tinted pink by the fading sunlight. The round window at its peak glinted with the crimson of the setting sun, casting a strange radiance, though deep shadows lay beneath it. It looked like a Quaker chapel, yet nothing like any building in Salem. He knew Salem's chapel well—its red-brick structure was entirely different from this one.

And besides, the season had changed. A warm spring breeze brushed his face, in stark contrast to the autumn chill he'd left behind. The landscape around him was different too; a vast forest had appeared, one that he didn't recall. Listening closely, he heard soft, intermittent whispers from the dark, dense forest.

He glanced at his watch. Bayonetta's gift displayed the time as 9:35 PM, yet if that time was correct, Salem should have been dark by now, with no sunset in sight. His phone also had no signal, yet it showed the same time as his watch.

Despite these inconsistencies, Solomon's surroundings left him with few certainties. All he knew for sure was that he was still near Salem—he recognized the shape of the rocky hills. After a brief moment of hesitation, he drew his wand and stepped along the leaf-strewn path toward the forest.

---

"The last signal came from this cave, sir." Agent Phil Coulson shone his flashlight ahead as he followed Agent Natasha Romanoff into the cave. "We found a set of footprints, like a teenager's, which should be from our target, Solomon Damonet. But there's no sign of an exit trail. He must still be inside."

"Shy guy, hiding out here for half an hour," Romanoff remarked casually, but her actions were anything but careless. Before entering, she had already drawn her gun, ready to shoot at any moment. She'd overheard the conversation between Fury and Solomon and was aware of the existence of magic, though she hadn't disclosed this to anyone. It was an agent's instinct to keep secrets until the right time, when they could be of greatest use.

"Why are we tracking him?" Coulson asked. "I mean, I've seen Solomon, but I didn't realize Director Fury held him in such high regard. He's not an agent, is he?"

"Maybe he has some kind of partnership with the Director, but I can't tell you the nature of their cooperation," Romanoff replied, scanning the darkness ahead. "Once the signal cut off, Director Fury assumed he'd encountered trouble and needed us to rescue him. Plus…"

"Yes?"

"We're in trouble too." Romanoff looked at the stone wall and the vanishing footprints. "Solomon Damonet has disappeared."

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