Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

"This is the story of your birth, Solomon," the Ancient One said as she gently tousled the curly, long hair of five-year-old Solomon. The Sorcerer Supreme had always been pleased with Solomon's behavior. He had never shown the erratic outbursts typical of children, and the Ancient One could always see him deep in thought.

This was no surprise to her, given that Solomon's birth had been orchestrated by heaven itself, even though the Ancient One had intercepted it. His uniqueness was bound to manifest. For instance, he possessed a bit of innate magic without needing a pact with the Vishanti. This ability surfaced when he was just five years old, around the turn of the millennium, and caused a bit of trouble.

Earth wasn't devoid of casters who used their own magic. Ordinary people could refine magic power from their life force if they had the correct methods. In the West, this energy was called magic; in the East, it was referred to as *qi*. Regardless of the name, it was the necessary energy to fuel magic. However, those who refined life force into magic were never particularly powerful, except for a few exceptionally gifted occultists. Most were considered rogue spellcasters, lacking formal training.

Magic-users born with inherent magic were a rarity, and their existence usually implied some connection to outer dimensions. This led many of the sorcerers at Kamar-Taj to approach the Ancient One with concerns. They feared that the source of Solomon's magic might have detrimental effects on the innocent-looking child.

"He has an abundance of life force," the Sorcerer Supreme said, pulling Solomon, who was lost in thought, closer to her. She opened his hand, allowing the disciples to see the still-sealed stigmata on his fingers, visible only to those with special sight. "Magic is essentially energy that exists within all living things. Because he was born as a saint, his body has been strengthened by positive energy, granting him an extraordinary life force.

"That excessive life force was automatically converted into magic by the stigmata. His spells are merely a use of his life force, and they have nothing to do with any external dimension.

"So even before forming a pact with the Vishanti, Solomon possesses the ability to cast spells on his own. In addition, his body has greater strength and heightened senses compared to ordinary people."

However, the Ancient One kept certain other aspects of the stigmata's power to herself, believing that there was no need for the other disciples to know.

Solomon's clothing was more distinctive than the other students at Kamar-Taj because it was made from a deep red sacramental cloth by the Ancient One, intended to prevent his stigmata from going out of control. Wearing it also made the stigmata invisible to regular people.

"Is it from heaven? Or the Vishanti?" one of the disciples asked.

"No, it's simply from the Positive Energy Plane. It's not heaven, nor is it related to the Vishanti," the Ancient One replied. "The magic we wield also comes from positive energy. Mount Celestia is another positive energy plane. There's no difference. If his body had been exposed to negative energy, like black magic, he wouldn't be so chubby."

Solomon puffed out his cheeks in dissatisfaction, insisting that he was merely baby-fat, which made the female disciples giggle and pinch his chubby cheeks.

For years, the Ancient One had worked within Kamar-Taj to diminish the reverence for the Vishanti, despite the fact that the Vishanti were the patron deities of both Kamar-Taj and herself. One reason Kamar-Taj could draw power from the Vishanti rather than other magical entities was due to the intervention of the Eternal One—one of the universe's five major gods. It was by the Eternal One's guidance that the Ancient One had signed a pact with the Vishanti.

In fact, the Ancient One had initially been hesitant to take Solomon as a disciple, even though the Vishanti had their own plans. While the Ancient One was backed by the Eternal One, the Vishanti were the ones providing the magic, and they had already designated a successor to the position of Sorcerer Supreme. Agamotto, Oshtur, and Hoggoth—the trinity of the Vishanti—wished to regain control of Kamar-Taj, which had slipped away. They sought to select a new Sorcerer Supreme, one more obedient to their will. But the Ancient One was too powerful, and her ties to the Eternal One were too deep.

The Vishanti couldn't risk breaking their contract, fearing that they might drive the Ancient One towards Dormammu, turning her into their enemy. It was a gamble they couldn't afford, so they chose to wait for the Ancient One's natural death.

Solomon Damonet's birth gave the Sorcerer Supreme new hope—a chance to ensure Earth's independence before the next Sorcerer Supreme was chosen, preventing Kamar-Taj from becoming a puppet of the Vishanti. She even told Solomon the story of Jezebel, hoping to foster in him a connection to the people of Earth. She wanted Solomon to understand that his existence was an extension of Jezebel's love.

"How did you do it?" the Ancient One asked Solomon after the other disciples had left.

She affectionately ran her hand through Solomon's soft, curly black hair. At this young age, it was hard to tell if he was a boy or girl, making him appear all the more adorable. Even the Ancient One couldn't resist pinching his chubby, rosy cheeks.

"I just wanted to heat up my soup. I was reading *The Key of Raziel* and didn't have time to eat, so I figured I'd finish the soup I didn't drink last night," Solomon shrugged, looking innocent, and he wasn't lying.

In truth, the moment Solomon had become self-aware, he had immediately recognized the Ancient One. He quickly pieced together where he was but, due to his naturally low ambitions, he didn't even bother to be surprised.

He had also examined his System carefully. The stigmata on his fingers not only granted him physical abilities far beyond the norm but also contained the memories of ten deceased archmages. These memories were filled with extensive magical knowledge and personal histories—he could clearly tell where these memories originated, be it from Faerûn, Greyhawk, Eberron, or even Golarion.

But he couldn't help but complain about how many of these mages had a strange fascination with necromancy! Was it because of their obsession with dark magic that they had all met such grim ends? And why did his System feel so similar to a demilich's soul stone? Was this a hint that he was destined to become a lich?

The System, while giving him his extraordinary traits, also came with side effects—unlocking the stigmata to access its knowledge would flood him with a torrent of information. These archmages had lived exceptionally long lives, yet he was nothing more than a sheltered recluse. His soul wasn't yet strong enough to handle all the memories.

It was a vicious cycle. To fully absorb the knowledge from the stigmata, Solomon would have to strengthen his soul through learning the spells taught at Kamar-Taj.

After receiving his basic education, Solomon had been allowed to read certain magical texts in the library. The book he was reading, *The Key of Raziel*—also known as *The Lesser Key of Solomon*—wasn't the original but a translated version, having no real connection to King Solomon. It was written by medieval sorcerers and promoted blood sacrifices and killings—typical black magic. However, since its content was largely nonsensical, it had been thrown into the library's corner, used as a cautionary tool to teach novices about the dangers of black magic. This was how Solomon had been allowed to read it.

The real *Book of Enoch*, which contained the true knowledge of the angel Raziel, was something Solomon was not yet allowed to access.

It was similar to how parents scare children by saying things like, "If you don't go to sleep, the big bad wolf/witch/Voldemort will come to get you!"—just a method of instilling fear in the young.

But Solomon found it fascinating nonetheless. After all, he had only inherited memories of simple tricks from the mages, and had yet to experience formal occult studies.

Solomon's natural curiosity, combined with the mages' memories of excitement when first attempting magic, drove him to try using magic to heat his soup. In a world without spell slots or magical webs, he had to recite a long string of incantations and carefully control his magic output.

But instead of turning his cold soup into hot soup, he caused a burst of crackling sparks to shoot through the door, alarming the sorcerers who were practicing their spells, which led to the earlier commotion.

The Ancient One lightly patted Solomon's head again. She was well aware that Solomon's origins were anything but simple, but she had no intention of sharing this with anyone. She hadn't even used the Eye of Agamotto to peer into Solomon's future, despite having received it from the Eternal One. After all, the Eye of Agamotto was an artifact of the Vishanti, and who could say whether or not they had left their own mark on it?

The Ancient One seemed deep in thought. A single form of magic could only support one system of spells. For example, Dormammu's followers could never learn the teleportation spells of Kamar-Taj. She knew the stigmata contained knowledge, yet Solomon's magic seemed capable of powering those spells.

"You need more practice, Solomon," the Ancient One said after a while. She pulled him closer and retrieved a cup of juice through a portal. "Try freezing this drink. Go ahead, don't be afraid. I

'm right here with you."

Solomon was touched. Seeing the encouragement in the Ancient One's eyes, he followed her instructions… only for the Sorcerer Supreme to pull out a straw, insert it into the now frost-covered cup, and walk away, sipping it. Solomon rolled his eyes—clearly, the Sorcerer Supreme wasn't quite what he'd imagined.

Originally, he'd thought the Sorcerer Supreme would be an imposing and compassionate figure, like Dumbledore. But what kind of mentor gives an emotional speech just to trick a student into casting a spell to freeze her drink?

The Ancient One didn't seem like some crooked-nosed old man with a sweet tooth, after all.

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Quick note: Some might have already caught on, others might not, but the protagonist is being deliberately groomed.

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