The Holy Son in Marvel

"Interested in seeing Captain America?" Nick Fury raised an eyebrow. "Though you'd only get a view from behind a one-way mirror, it's still thrilling, isn't it? I'm sure you've got posters or figurines of him in your bedroom—every kid does. You're no exception."

"Heh." Solomon let out a cold laugh. Fury was clearly trying to steer the conversation into lighter territory, and Solomon didn't mind indulging him, knowing he could still find answers in those extracted memories if Fury was lying. "Nope," he replied, "not a single one. While Captain America is personally admirable, America… I can't imagine having an American flag in my room. That'd be revolting."

"There it is again!" Fury clicked his tongue, narrowing his eye. "I just don't get it—why all this hostility toward the USA? You know, World War II wouldn't have ended without America. With Captain America, the Manhattan Project… America fought for justice back then!"

Solomon laughed so hard he nearly toppled off his chair. "Justice? America as a country doesn't care about justice—it cares about capital, and capital has no morals. When Germany was preparing for World War II, wasn't it Wall Street that financed it? The DuPont conglomerate, chemical companies, Rockefeller's Standard Oil, Morgan's controlled Telegraph and Telephone, and even Ford—didn't they all sign huge contracts with Germany, exporting technology? Ford himself even received an honorary Nazi cross!"

"You're talking about events before the war," Fury said, clenching his fists on the desk, clearly frustrated. "Nobody knew a war was coming then."

"Alright, then let's talk about during and after the war." Solomon waved a hand, raising his first point. "Eugenics. Hitler was a proponent of it. In 1933, just after taking power, the Nazi government implemented forced sterilization for 'schizophrenics, manic-depressives, epileptics, deaf-mutes, physically deformed individuals, and alcoholics.' Over the next five years, 400,000 people were sterilized. Starting in 1934, those with severe mental illnesses were prohibited from marrying, and the 1935 Nuremberg Laws banned marriage between Germans and Jews and even outlawed relations between them. Between 1939 and 1941, ninety thousand psychiatric patients were killed, followed by six million 'carriers of harmful blood and genes' in a brutal campaign of racial purification."

"Does anyone think Nazis weren't evil?" Fury blinked in disbelief. "If I meet someone like that, I'll replace their showerhead with a tear gas dispenser."

"Eugenics itself is obviously a monstrous ideology, but it didn't originate in Germany—it started in the USA," Solomon sneered. "And the first to implement eugenics policies? Also the USA. Germany simply built upon American Harry Laughlin's model. The world's first sterilization law targeting 'criminals, idiots, rapists, and the feebleminded' was passed in Indiana in 1907. Over thirty states followed suit. If it weren't for the Nazis visiting the American eugenics community and discovering the role of chromosomes in heredity, eugenics would have continued even longer in the US."

Fury spread his hands, conceding the point. There were too many skeletons in America's closet—even he couldn't deny that.

"After the war, Britain experienced a surge in divorces and births, forcing the government to send over a million children back to the US in search of their fathers. Look at those American soldiers, sowing their wild oats everywhere—they're still the same. Haven't you seen the annual scandals involving US troops stationed in Japan?" Solomon placed Phoenix on the desk. "Captain America's a decent soldier, sure, but if he knew half of what the history books leave out, what would he think? He's respectable for his bravery and commitment to an ideal, and that's truly admirable. But America? Not worthy of respect."

"You've got a point." Fury rolled his eye. "But your views are toxic. Letting you meet Captain America might be the dumbest idea ever. America's a nation with faith. Every soldier here believes they're fighting for God."

"I'm not. I haven't. I don't acknowledge it." Solomon chuckled, catching Fury's puzzled look. "What? Can't I speak for God? I'm the Holy Son, after all. No one on Earth is better suited to represent God than me—not even the Pope, since he's never had divine acknowledgment. In fact, I could even declare the Roman Church's illegitimacy and represent the entire Abrahamic faith. I carry the blood of Abraham, and God's covenant was with my ancestors, not with anyone else. Listen to me: I say no. America hasn't fought for God. Did you hear that?"

"Fck off!" Fury rolled his eye in exasperation. Solomon, still holding Phoenix, prepared to leave. But just as he was about to open a portal, he turned back, revisiting a critical issue.

"You're certain Coulson or Natasha didn't take any of those books, right?" Solomon asked. "Think carefully. To keep those forbidden secrets from reaching the wrong people, I'll hunt down anyone who's seen those books. If I have to, I'll erase S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters from the Earth and eliminate every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. You know I wouldn't hesitate."

"I give you my word, Solomon."

"Good." Solomon nodded. "Then let's wait for the outcome. Don't let me down, Nick Fury."

The S.H.I.E.L.D. director watched as Solomon and the immortal Phoenix disappeared from his office in the spring breeze off the Thames. Fury sat in silence, not angry but deep in thought, uncertain if Solomon's "don't let me down" was a threat or encouragement. He couldn't gauge Solomon's true stance on S.H.I.E.L.D.

He needed to accelerate his plans.

Only this plan would give him the means to counter Solomon.

---

Solomon was busy. Back at Eton College, he was quickly submerged in endless academic pursuits.

The coursework at Eton was manageable for him; the real challenge came from Kamar-Taj. Since the Supreme Sorcerer had designated him as the heir to the Holy Sword, he had to undergo training in swordsmanship, horsemanship, and even the use of a lance—an ancient weapon provided by Athena, though its exact origin was a mystery. But these weren't the real challenges; his weekend violin, piano, sculpture, and painting classes were easy by comparison. What truly proved tricky was Dormammu.

Though his studies of Yog-Sothoth's magic had strengthened his will, Yog-Sothoth, being far removed, wasn't as bothersome as Dormammu's close presence. Solomon had begun drawing power from the Dark Dimension, managing to avoid crystallization, but the energy also strained his mind.

To survive in the Dark Dimension, he couldn't rely on the Vishanti's aid, so he employed a spell from another pantheon—Yog-Sothoth's Fist. Currently, Solomon was the only practitioner of this spell on Earth, as the Supreme Sorcerer had abandoned learning it after a brief attempt. She saw it as similar to "Cyttorak's Crimson Bands," using energy from the Crimson Cosmos, with a comparable toll on the caster's sanity.

The Supreme Sorcerer also had Solomon add a new spell, Arcane Invocation, to the Kamar-Taj library, and with his input, she modified the "Holy Sword of the Vishanti." From then on, Kamar-Taj apprentices were divided into two factions: Contract Magic and Arcane Blast, greatly enhancing Kamar-Taj's offensive capabilities—since the Book of the Vishanti contained no offensive spells.

In the following months, besides his studies, Solomon focused on upgrading his magical equipment. His magic missile wand and fireball wand were essential, so he made a spare. During this time, he even traveled to Scandinavia with Bayonetta and Joan.

But this blissful period was abruptly cut short. He had to interrupt his weekend plans.

He had just encountered, for the first time since his initiation, a fallen sorcerer of Kamar-Taj.

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