Salomon dreamed.
He stood before an endless, tranquil ocean. At its center rose a tree so vast it felt like it had no beginning and no end. Its roots vanished into the depths below, and its crown pierced the heavens. Two colossal serpents coiled around its trunk, their bodies winding upward in silent vigil.
At the base of the tree, embedded in the bark, was a massive ring formed from crystal. Four currents of light flowed across its surface, orange-yellow, olive green, reddish-brown, and black, swirling like living things.
As his gaze climbed higher, more rings appeared along the trunk, each one glowing in its own spectrum. But the higher he looked, the harder it became to see. His vision blurred, like reality itself was thinning.
At the very top, he barely made out a final ring.
It was forged of diamond, surrounded by wings, radiating a pure white brilliance that felt almost… sacred.
Then Salomon lowered his gaze.
Beneath the ocean's surface, hidden in fog, lay the tree's reflection.
But something was wrong.
The rings in the reflection didn't match the ones above. They were arranged differently, connected to branches in a strange configuration. When he focused harder, he realized those rings and branches formed five distinct sections… mirroring the five-pointed structure formed by the rings and branches of the tree above.
A whisper brushed against his ear.
Low. Ancient. Patient.
It spoke of a key… the key to the Kingdom of Spirits.
Before he could catch the meaning, the world slipped away.
—
"You're awake. But you still need rest."
The voice pulled him back to reality.
Salomon forced his eyes open. His body felt like it had been hollowed out and filled with sand. Every movement was a struggle.
The Ancient One sat beside him, calm as ever.
The magical flames were gone. His lips were no longer cracked and bleeding. Everything felt… repaired. Or at least stitched back together.
Memory came in fragments.
The rings.
The surge of power.
And then… nothing.
His eyes shifted.
His room at Kamar-Taj.
Of course. No one else here had a game console. That alone made it unmistakably his.
He tried to lift his hand.
Nothing.
Tried to speak.
Nothing.
"Reckless," the Ancient One said, tapping his forehead lightly with a folding fan. "But the outcome was acceptable. You managed to subdue the Vishanti rings."
She paused.
"Don't worry. Wong is fine. And he hasn't told anyone. As far as the others know, you were attacked by a dark sorcerer."
Salomon's eyes flickered, trying to respond.
She ignored it.
"I intended to wait until your soul was stronger before letting you wear those rings. You decided otherwise." A faint smile. "Still, this works. You can now begin properly studying Vishanti magic."
She stood.
"Oh, and I fed your snake. You can relax."
His eyes widened.
He blinked rapidly, trying to say something.
The Ancient One simply sealed him into the blanket with magic, leaving only his head exposed like a prisoner of soft, warm tyranny.
Then she left.
Salomon stared at the ceiling.
…Fine.
The blanket was warm.
The prison was comfortable.
Resistance was futile.
He closed his eyes again.
—
Not long after, the carved wooden door creaked open.
Someone slipped in.
"Quietly" was clearly not their strong suit.
The floor groaned under their weight like an old man protesting stairs.
Salomon didn't need to look.
"Hey! Junior Brother, you scared the life out of me!" Wong whispered loudly, which defeated the purpose entirely. "You've been out for days. Didn't even drink water."
Salomon opened his eyes again.
Wong leaned closer, round face full of relief.
"I saw the Ancient One leave, so I knew you were fine." He lowered his voice. "So… what happened? Is this one of those things we're not supposed to talk about?"
Salomon blinked twice, urgency flashing in his eyes.
Wong nodded solemnly.
"I understand. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."
…You understand what?!
That's not what I meant!
Salomon blinked harder, trying to protest.
"Ffff—"
Wong leaned closer, completely ignoring the attempt at speech.
Then he started talking.
And talking.
And talking.
Through Wong's rambling, Salomon finally pieced together what had happened after he lost consciousness.
—
When the storm of magic erupted, it tore the ghosts apart instantly.
It also sent Wong tumbling across the ground like a dropped sack of rice.
Then… they appeared.
The Vishanti.
Three entities of overwhelming power, towering above reality itself. Their presence alone distorted the world. Magic surged like a tidal wave, wrapping around Salomon in layer after layer.
Then came the fire.
Orange-red flames exploded outward, like divine wrath given form.
The asphalt softened and bubbled.
Trees ignited in an instant.
The air expanded violently, turning into a howling storm that carried dust and burning ash.
Nearby ruins shattered under the pressure.
Everything melted.
Everything burned.
Wong had dropped flat to the ground.
Of course he recognized them. Any sorcerer of Kamar-Taj would.
The Vishanti.
His thoughts at the time were not noble.
They were panic.
What kind of insane task did the Ancient One give him?
What were those rings?
Why were they connected to the Vishanti?
Those rings had to be some kind of blasphemy!
He had been certain Salomon was dead.
No one survives that kind of heat without protection spells.
He expected to find nothing but charred bones.
And yet…
When the relic cloth was torn away from Salomon's body, the raging magic suddenly… stopped.
Just like that.
Wong could barely describe what he saw next.
Within the flames, Salomon's body shone with blinding light.
And in that light, Wong felt something else.
Knowledge.
Endless, complex, incomprehensible knowledge flooding his mind.
The Vishanti seemed to be… communicating.
He couldn't understand them.
Only fragments reached him.
"Angel."
"Demon."
The rest was too much.
Information slammed into his brain without filter, leaving him dizzy and sick.
"Honestly, I remember almost nothing," Wong said later, still shaken. "Next time you plan something like this, tell me first. I'm running the other way."
—
"He's strong enough."
Among the three, one voice carried clarity.
Agamotto.
Unlike the other two, whose forms and even genders shifted constantly, Agamotto retained something closer to human understanding.
"He is also the disciple of the current Sorcerer Supreme. You know what that implies."
"He is a thief!" roared Hoggoth, his tiger-headed form blazing with fury. "Without the Ancient One, he would never have found the rings!"
Agamotto turned to Oshtur.
She said nothing.
Silence.
"Someone must wield our rings," Agamotto said at last.
"Then why does he not form a contract?"
"You know the limitations of such contracts. Besides…" Agamotto's gaze lingered on Salomon. "If he removes the rings, he loses our power. That may prove… useful."
Before anything more could be said—
The magic vanished.
The Vishanti disappeared.
As if they had never been there.
—
Wong slowly lifted his head.
If not for the burning ruins, the molten road, and the lingering heat, he would have believed it was all an illusion.
He wiped his face, then forced himself forward under a protective spell.
Toward the center.
Toward Salomon.
He just wanted to bring him back.
And then—
Movement.
A faint rise and fall in a charred, blackened chest.
Alive.
Wong nearly laughed from relief.
As long as he wasn't dead, the Sorcerer Supreme could save him.
And if that wasn't enough…
There was always the Eye of Agamotto.
Time itself could be rewound.
—
"And then the Ancient One opened a portal and brought us back," Wong finished quietly. "No one else saw you."
He leaned in again.
"She healed your body with magic. You're fine now. Go on, tell me what really happened. I swear I won't tell anyone."
Salomon blinked.
Desperately.
He forced out a few broken sounds.
"Out…"
Wong frowned.
"Why do you keep blinking?"
…You absolute idiot.
I haven't gone to the bathroom in days.
Let me out of this blanket prison!!