In the animal kingdom, courtship behaviors aim at reproduction. The male red-capped manakin performs a moonwalk-like dance, the bowerbird decorates its nest with fruit, and the frilled lizard flashes its brightly scaled throat fan. Even Australia's peacock spider stretches out its long legs to dance. Male dance flies present shiny sand grains as gifts, and in their environment, penguins choose smooth, beautiful pebbles. All of it serves to show off their strengths or curry favor with females—at its core, no different from human romance today.
In ancient times, hunting was the clearest way to prove strength and intellect. Only the strongest and smartest men returned from the dark forest. Countless fathers must have told wide-eyed suitors, "Oh, dear John, if you want to win my daughter's heart, go fetch me the hide of the fiercest wolf in the forest! And mind you—no scratches, no lice, and no squirrel-stashed nuts! That pelt must be pristine! Or I'll marry her off to the miller instead!"
And one idiot after another, full of hope, either died in the forest or was hanged by the local lord.
The difference between animals and humans lies only in the form of gifts and displays. After all these millennia of evolution, humans still follow the logic hardcoded in their genes. Even Solomon was no exception. With his classical and modern education, the archmage knew that stockings, perfume, gold, and furs were the best gifts. He planned to get Bayonetta a fur shawl—a birthday present for a few months down the road.
A woman like her deserved a shawl that matched her black evening gown: one blacker than night, smoother than silk. Athena once told him that beautiful fur has always driven women wild. Solomon thoroughly agreed.
To obtain the perfect pelt, Solomon had to hunt in Avalon himself.
"You'll get one too, I promise," Solomon said to Stephanie. "I'll bring you some white mink fur. Sounds like something a proper baron would promise the miller's daughter, doesn't it? Now, give me the next document?"
"The Sorcerer Supreme left a message," the secretary replied, rolling her eyes and tossing his phone back at him. She knew more secrets than most mortals could dream of—Kamar-Taj's existence included. "Probably about snacks in the fridge," she added, shrugging. "Next time, don't bother going to the convenience store yourself. A shopping list will do. Just send someone to deliver the stuff to Kamar-Taj. I'm serious, My Lord—you're wasting too much time brawling in that Clinton district mini-mart that gets shot up every other week."
"You do realize Manhattan belongs to Kamar-Taj, right? I own the original land deed. That means there's no place I can't go."
(Footnote: As seen in Black Cat #2.)
"No one recognizes that deed anymore, My Lord."
"I don't care! Anyone who refuses gets wiped out!" Solomon began gearing up for a tantrum. Stephanie sighed and pressed play on the voicemail.
As he listened, Solomon rolled his eyes hard. He had expected the Sorcerer Supreme to bring up serious topics—marriage (with someone other than the witch), the Mind Stone, fragments of the Reality Stone, alchemy, sacrifice, justice, and reason. Or maybe something less serious: marriage (with the witch), snacks, potlucks, drinks.
Or something in between: training apprentices, brawling, reading.
What he hadn't expected was to be summoned to interrogate a mentally unstable woman.
Apparently, the stewards at the New York Sanctum had captured a self-proclaimed "Eye of Catastrophe." (Footnote: Referenced in Unbelievable Gwenpool #2.) This woman didn't know any spells. Her only method of casting was to pray to magical entities. Examples: "O unknowable Lords of Arcane Sorcery, I call upon thee to destroy that tire!" Or she'd shout nonsense like "BIBIBO!"
Everyone knew the Outer Realms were home to countless lesser magical beings. While not on the level of Vishanti or other true gods, they were often the best option for weak casters unable to contract with stronger entities. These minor entities typically initiated contact via dream visitation—but their chosen vessels were often spiritually unstable nobodies, since anyone with real talent had long been claimed by the big names. The methods used to "train" these unlucky fools were crude, leading to frequent mental instability.
The Sanctum stewards had arrested her for trying to teach a rock about anti-discrimination ethics—just barely beating the cops to the scene. Solomon suspected the Sorcerer Supreme gave him this task as a joke, a way to help him unwind. After all, there were few things more entertaining than a delusional hillbilly caster. They might even splurge to get her a uniform from Dalrona's Tailor Shop, since her destructive power was negligible. So long as the Sorcerer Supreme still lived, minor entities couldn't manifest on the Material Plane.
So the assignment? Have a drink. Chat a little. That was it.
"You're really not coming with us to Jimmy Chickenplume Live?" Tony Stark asked. "Everyone's going—except Romanoff and Banner. Even Rogers is coming. He wants to build rapport with the public, so we're all going onstage… Okay, okay, I'll admit it. I asked you because we couldn't get Thor. The Maximoff twins are in. So is Vision. You know what Clint's got planned? Mini-exploding arrows and padlocks! I swear it's hilarious! Come on, kid—prepare a joke. I'll even pay someone to punch it up for you."
"No." Solomon sounded annoyed and moved to hang up.
"Ugh, I hate this old-school brooding act. Is this about our argument on the carrier?" Stark muttered. "Rogers and I are over it. The Avengers-branded plushies my company launched even calmed him down. It was just a clash of ideals. You want to help people without getting involved—fine. No one's blaming you. We get it. Magic can't always intervene in reality. But how long are you going to hide who you are? After Sokovia, do you really think anyone hasn't seen your magic? Come on! Time to step into the light. You'd get a ton of fans!"
"No." The arcanist hung up without hesitation and added Tony Stark's number to his blacklist.
"Stephanie, get me Agent Victoria Hand. I want an update on her mission status."
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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