The tremors continued intermittently, and according to the intelligence relayed through Solomon's phone and satellite scans, the epicenter wasn't far from Yarmouth. Leaving the broken car door behind, Solomon quickly bid the priest farewell and dragged Wanda along as they rushed toward the source. Before departing, he spoke in rapid-fire bursts, instructing the priest to organize the townspeople into reinforced concrete buildings—any large structure that could withstand earthquakes. Though clearly shaken, the priest agreed immediately, saying he'd contact the First Orthodox Church, the First Parish Congregational Church, the First Baptist, Sacred Heart Catholic Church, Royal Baptist, Cousins Island Chapel, and the local police to begin evacuating community members to nearby shelters. At the same time, neighboring towns such as Baldwin, Freeport, Harpswell, and Scarborough also received emergency alerts from official channels.
Solomon slammed the accelerator, speeding down Gilman Road toward Cousins Island. The three sky aircraft carriers—recently regrouped—redirected their engines and began moving swiftly toward Casco Bay on the East Coast. Many minor clairvoyants residing along the Eastern Seaboard were abruptly overwhelmed with visions: a blood-red sun stretching across the sky, eclipsed by a massive black moon ringed in thick, dripping scarlet light. Those who lacked defenses against such darkness lost their minds on the spot and began killing themselves with whatever was at hand. Even if no tools were nearby, they bashed their skulls into hard surfaces. Later autopsies revealed that most of them had already been dead before their suicides—their brains had melted into a pulp, as if someone had stirred their grey matter with a spoon. Every cat in town screamed in unison. Both Wanda and Solomon felt the effect, though less severely. Wanda, seated in the back seat with her eyes shut, was muttering incantations as the storm built. Solomon merely shook his head, easily brushing off the wave of madness.
Kaecilius, along with all arcanists aboard the sky carriers, also felt a magical shock akin to the winter solstice—the moment of magical polarity.
This earthquake lasted three to four minutes. Luckily, the bridge built in 1955 held. At the southern end of Cousins Island sat a peak-shaving oil power plant capable of generating 823 megawatts of electricity. Though the plant remained operational, the quake still caused regional blackouts in Yarmouth. The entire town was plunged into darkness. Only scattered headlights and handheld floodlights could pierce the gloom. Guiding and evacuating civilians under these conditions was extremely difficult—but Solomon had no time to worry about that. With his high beams on and horn blaring, he drove the Jeep through a vacant instrument repair shop, reaching the Littlejohn Island Reserve via Talbot Road in just three minutes.
On the opposite side of the island was a private golf club and a four-star hotel. There was no bridge between Littlejohn Island and Chebeague Island—access relied on ferries from Cousins Island, which were painfully inefficient. With the quake prompting ferry workers to flee, Solomon had no way to get his vehicle across.
Even if staff had remained, they wouldn't have agreed to launch, let alone sail out to the archipelago. The seas out there were far too rough. The epicenter was in the waters between dozens of small islands preceding Casco Bay—and it was moving outward. Its final recorded position was east of the Halfway Rock Lighthouse. Portals couldn't be used either; there was no solid ground to stand on at sea.
"Get out of the car."
"We're abandoning it?"
"Let it sit here. Let it serve as an insult to the vow I made." The arcanist and Wanda stood by the shoreline. What happened next would stay burned into Wanda's memory for life.
She watched Solomon step onto the crashing sea. Between the water and his sole, a thin sheet of ice rapidly crystallized.
The ice grew—spreading and thickening. Magic bent the waves to his will. Unlike the flashier spells that hurled fire or electricity, this was something else entirely: an act of dominion. By the time Solomon placed his second foot down, a boat of ice large enough to carry five people had already taken form. Seconds later, a sail of icy vines and roses unfurled from a frozen mast. The boat shimmered like glass, delicate yet firm—a crystalline work of art. Waves smashed against the shore, yet the ice vessel stood immobile, unmoved even as the storm churned black water all around.
"How many kinds of magic do you even know?"
"One thousand four hundred, my apprentice."
At Solomon's command, Wanda conjured a gust of wind to fill the sail. Their vessel slid across the sea, slicing through a gateway of water, heading directly to their destination. The lighthouse sat on a barren rock ledge in Casco Bay. It was 76 feet tall, with all auxiliary buildings—dock, storage, bunkhouse—lost in the last storm. Only rotting planks and gull-droppings remained. No one lived there now; supplies had to be brought in by town shipments. Without pressing need, no one visited.
The light from the tower was out, and the closer they got, the more jagged the reef below became.
Wanda wasn't sure how Solomon planned to avoid them. In waves like these, magic alone might not suffice. A single mistimed gust, and their ship could shatter on the rocks. Solomon stripped off his suit jacket and put on his sacred bonecloth robe. At the top of the ice sail, he lit a brilliant magical orb.
The sea became his mightiest tool. He did not dock. Instead, he summoned a spell that lifted the waves, carrying the boat above the reefs and jagged ledges, hurling it onto the island. Wanda tumbled into the deck as the ship lurched and landed. She no longer found his spellcasting surprising—but the island's stench, which even the howling wind couldn't disperse, hit her like a wall. As she stepped onto the rocky ground, she felt something slimy beneath her boot.
The light from the magical orb revealed the nightmare: more than a dozen shriveled, pale corpses lay scattered across the ground. They wore ragged, ancient clothing, their wet bodies covered in gray-white mucus and worms. The mixture of rot and sea stench was nauseating. It was as if these monsters had clawed their way up from the sea floor. They were vampires—Wanda could sense it—but she couldn't fathom who had the power to slay so many of them.
The lighthouse keeper's fate seemed grim.
"James Boone. This is your final blood sacrifice, you filthy old dog." Solomon resisted the urge to spit. With a wave, he conjured two visible energy bubbles over their heads, filtering out the stench and toxins. Wanda had no idea how much more magic Solomon could produce—every spell he used was perfectly tailored to the moment. As he gestured, more orbs of light appeared, illuminating the darkened island. This sudden brightness offended a being who loathed the light.
A figure in a black robe stood on the lighthouse balcony, growling angrily.
Wanda murmured a spell to enhance her vision, trying to make out his face—and instantly regretted it. That cursed visage would haunt her dreams forever. The skin was aged and sagging, wet like seaweed. Its infected eyes wept translucent yellow fluid. Black lips pulled back to reveal grotesque canine fangs.
"How dare you!" the vampire's voice slithered like nightmare ooze, cold and venomous as a serpent. Though distant, his voice cut through the howling wind—no, this was no voice. It was telepathy. His filthy thoughts reached for them like invisible tendrils.
The creature whimpered like a beaten dog, its face erupting in pulsating blisters.
"You dare interrupt my offering to the Omniscient One? You dare raise a hand against one so devout?" Perhaps hurt by a psychic backlash, the vampire reverted to screaming like a rabid beast. Rancid spit flew from his mouth as he ranted. The island trembled.
"Soon, you shall behold the Omniscient God! The Nameless One! The worm who transcends space and worlds! The Devourer of Planets! The great Omniscient One shall claim this sacrifice through the hands of His devoted servant! Rejoice, pitiful human mage! You shall rejoice as you witness the miracle of the Worm! You shall scream in bliss as your intestines spill out! Great Yog-Sothoth, your servant offers you sweet, sweet souls!"
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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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