Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

This abandoned subway transfer station had seen better days. The red brick walls were bare, not even tiled, and Solomon estimated it had been here for at least fifty years. New York's subway system was constantly changing, and it was no surprise that some places would eventually fall into disuse. Standing a step below Dave, he listened to the apprentice mage's deep sighs. With a resigned shake of his head, Solomon recited an incantation, summoning the small dog perched on a spellbook, which hovered over with the book and landed in his hands.

Immediately, he set the wrinkled Shar-Pei down, as the dog looked ready to shake the water from its fur—a move he was keen to avoid.

"Thanks, man. You saved my life and Tonk's too," Dave muttered, rubbing his face in frustration. "But Betsy…she's going to leave me again. Last time, it was me who left—but that was ten years ago…ugh, I'm done for."

"Yes, you are," Solomon replied, placing the Merlin School's spellbook aside. This wasn't his school's business. The Merlin School had gained recognition from Kamar-Taj, exchanging a few spells, but its deeper magic remained private. Solomon wasn't about to breach those boundaries. "You two have certainly stirred up enough trouble recently. Shall I remind you? Let's not even mention your teacher Balthazar—casting magic in front of ordinary people…"

Dave let out a long breath, eyes shut. He hadn't listened to a word Solomon was saying. To him, it was all too reminiscent of ten years ago: a boy stumbling into a world of mystery, then losing the girl he cared about because she couldn't understand. They had parted ways, never to meet again.

In a Hollywood script, this story would end in a neat, happy reunion, with a meaningful connection formed before the inevitable conflict. But Dave had little hope for any heartfelt reconciliation. This was no movie, and he hadn't even held Betsy's hand.

"Hey! Hey!" Solomon lightly patted Dave's face. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dave opened his eyes, blinking hard. As he got up, he scooped up the damp dog. "What do you need me to do?"

"You mostly need to listen to the warning. We handled that robber," Solomon said. "When Balthazar gets here, I'll tell him what Kamar-Taj decided—that he should at least cast an invisibility spell when he's flying around the city. It wouldn't take much time."

The rusty metal door opened again as Balthazar entered with a bag in hand. He froze at the sight before him. Solomon had merely countered Dave's spell to stop the animated cleaning supplies, yet the faucet was still running, and the station was half-flooded.

"What are you doing here?" Balthazar asked Solomon, glancing around. "And what happened here?"

"Can't you tell? Kamar-Taj's transfiguration is no match for Merlin's school—magic here is out of control," Solomon shrugged. "Your apprentice can probably explain the details better. The fact that he's still in one piece is a miracle."

Balthazar pieced it together. He'd paused Dave's training to give him time for a date, and this setup was obviously Dave's attempt at preparing for it. Clearly, Dave's lack of skill had resulted in him trying to cast spells with the Merlin Ring, then failing to control the magic, leading to an uncontrollable mess. Balthazar quickly cast a spell to drain the water, restoring everything to its original state—apart from the scattered mops, wet floors, and a few lingering suds, it looked as if nothing had happened.

"You!" Balthazar pressed a finger against Dave's chest. "You've tarnished the art of magic, and you've shown disrespect to the Merlin Ring! Magic isn't a game! There are no shortcuts! Look at him!"

Solomon, the only "model student" present, naturally became the target of Balthazar's lecture. Gesturing toward Solomon, he continued, "At five years old, he was already casting simple spells. But he spent years after that studying books, building his knowledge until he could perform real magic. You, however, have been dabbling in magic for a matter of days, and you're already trying out reckless spells! If you can't control yourself, you can't control magic, and that endangers everyone, yourself included. The first lesson for every mage isn't focus—it's restraint. You should have been learning discipline, Dave."

"Thanks for the wisdom, but it's useless," Dave replied, backing up with an air of defeat. "If I can't even control a few mops, what's the point of discipline?"

"You need to cast aside doubts and believe in yourself!"

"Another useless platitude, thanks." Dave waved his hand dismissively, indicating he was done with the conversation. But Balthazar wouldn't let him go. For the sake of piquing Dave's interest in magic, he had skipped many essential subjects, including discipline and self-restraint, opting to plunge him directly into spellcasting. The approach had sparked Dave's enthusiasm, but it also led him to underestimate magic's dangers.

"Is this how you handle things?" the novice mage snapped impatiently at Balthazar's lecture. Solomon, who was no longer of any use as a prop, found a dry chair and sat down. He wasn't leaving until he'd delivered Kamar-Taj's message.

"It doesn't matter how I handle things—"

"It matters, Balthazar," Dave took a deep breath, his words a bit shaky, an aftereffect of a trauma from ten years prior. "Your presence only makes my life hell! You know what I've been through these past ten years. I've told you…"

"Listen, you don't even know what hell is," Balthazar's anger subsided as he realized he may have been too hard on Dave. Ever since meeting him, Dave's life had changed dramatically, and he was nowhere near Solomon's level in terms of magical knowledge. Comparing the two wasn't fair. Glancing around, Balthazar tried to encourage his apprentice. "You're making progress."

"No, I'm not! I'm nothing without the ring, right?" Dave removed the ring and pointed toward a stack of chairs. "See? Without it, I can't even move a chair. You've got the wrong guy, Balthazar. I'm sorry, really. I'm not the savior you're looking for. I'm not the Supreme Merlin. I'm just some physics nerd." He swapped his old shoes for his favorite sneakers. "And these dumb shoes just make me look stupid."

Balthazar watched as Dave pulled up his hoodie and walked out without looking back. He sighed, busying himself with tidying up the damp spellbook. After a moment, Solomon, who had witnessed the entire debacle, finally spoke.

"He'll be back," he said. "At least he didn't walk off without the ring."

"Yes, he'll be back," Balthazar muttered without looking up. "Destiny has brought him to me, and he won't leave the magical world. By the way, did the Grandmaster mention that thing to you?"

"Yes," Solomon stood up. "Apprentice knight, Solomon Messiah Pendragon Damonet."

"Why not just Pendragon?" Balthazar looked up at last. "What did the Grandmaster tell you?"

"He said I would wield the Holy Sword one day," Solomon shrugged. "Which means I'll eventually become king of Britain. That's just my first title. If I want to make it happen, I'll probably need to support Scotland and Northern Ireland's independence first."

"The Merlin Wizarding Order will serve you. Even if it's just me now," Balthazar gave a slight bow. "Without Kamar-Taj's help, the world has no future."

"Why?" Solomon asked.

"Because of Morgan le Fay," Balthazar replied. "Now Hofas is trying to release her…"

Listening to Balthazar's tale, Solomon fell silent. He didn't have the heart to tell him that the version of Morgan le Fay he'd locked away was only an avatar, part of yet another of Merlin's long games. Merlin was not so easily killed. The Grandmaster was right; Merlin's character was indeed despicable. Anyone who spent enough time around him would come to hate him. Balthazar and his lover had paid a steep price to seal Morgan le Fay. Solomon could only imagine how Balthazar would feel if he learned the truth—that everything he had done for over a thousand years had been meaningless, all based on a prophecy from Merlin that led him to believe his lover could be saved.

"I can't promise you anything about that, Balthazar. I don't have that authority." Solomon asked, "What did the Grandmaster say?"

"He said that if necessary, Kamar-Taj will help," Balthazar replied, raising an eyebrow. "But Hofas and his allies are still out there."

"You can handle it, right?" Solomon said. "I always follow the Grandmaster's orders."

"A little extra help wouldn't hurt," Balthazar replied. "Dave still has to grow. He's not ready to face Morgan le Fay's followers yet."

"Then let him grow." Solomon spread his hands. "My first task was killing vampires and werewolves spawned by spells from the Darkhold. When my hands were stained with blood, my peers were still busy trying to date the prettiest girl in class."

"The Grandmaster never understood teaching, just as he didn't with Mordred or with you. Mordred started as an excellent knight, but he didn

't have your luck. The Grandmaster was far more lenient with you than he was with Mordred, and even so, his methods are brutal by any normal standard." Balthazar sighed, Solomon's words recalling memories of Camelot's fall and the disintegration of the Round Table. "Though we wizards look down on the knights, Tristan was right when he said, 'The king doesn't understand people.'"

"I'll admit the Grandmaster lacks any skill in teaching. His methods often left me confused," Solomon said, nudging the Shar-Pei away with his foot as it trotted over. "But I'm no rebellious teen. I know what needs to be done, whether it's good or bad."

"Good, then are you coming to help?"

"No, not just yet."

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