The Holy Son in Marvel

"Do you mean… destiny?" Solomon encountered this term again, and each time he uttered it, he felt a sharp pain, as if his upper palate was cut, with a metallic taste lingering in his throat. The last time he faced this word was when Thor descended, and the Sorcerer Supreme, peering through the Eye of Agamotto, saw that in every possible outcome, Jane Foster would fall in love with Thor. The strangeness of it was best explained by "destiny."

Randolph continued, "Your birth was subject to external intervention," he explained, "and so a certain path in your fate was already set. You can think of it as a line segment branching into countless rays—you do have possibilities, but along this line, your fate is fixed. It's something beyond human comprehension because humanity relies on logic to interpret the world. But in time, causality is inverted; the future determines the past, and the past is simply the future."

Though Randolph's explanation left Solomon somewhat confused, he grasped the general idea. Because his future self could pass through that door, for his future self, the present Solomon was, in fact, his future's past. To complete the cycle, one of Solomon's potential futures was already certain.

"You can do this," Randolph interrupted Solomon's contemplation, "because you already have. Only after that will you truly control your fate. Until then, keep your curiosity and desire for knowledge. They are your only assets to pass through the ultimate gate."

Randolph ended the conversation as Tituba returned and excused himself, saying he had business in town. "Feel free to read some books on the shelf," he said. "I wrote them myself to avoid rereading the same old newspapers every day. There's much in them that will be of use to you."

With that, he went out the door. "Sir," Tituba seemed a bit shy, "is there anything else you need?"

"Do you have more sugar?" Solomon asked, "I feel like my tea needs a bit more. Also, do you know where Mr. Carter went? And Abigail—do you know where she is?"

"I don't know," Tituba shook her head, "I haven't seen Miss Abigail all day, and I'm not sure what the master is doing."

"All right," Solomon narrowed his eyes, "Could you let me know when Coulson and Natasha wake up? I'm sure they'll have many questions."

"Certainly."

The mage spent the entire morning going through Randolph Carter's bookshelf and found an entry about the spell Nyarlathotep had used the previous night. Called "Mantle of Flames," it drew power from Cthugha, a massive, blazing entity near Fomalhaut, and one of the Great Old Ones. According to records, this Old One was rumored to have a strained relationship with Nyarlathotep, though the accuracy of this was uncertain—after all, those who cared enough to investigate such rumors could never withstand Cthugha's intense heat.

Randolph didn't return by lunchtime, but Coulson and Natasha awoke from their slumber. They indeed had many questions. Coulson, having seen Nyarlathotep's monstrous form, could only remember fragments of the previous night's events. Natasha mentioned losing her memory after the initial attack. Solomon shared what he could but found his own questions unanswered and had little information to offer.

After lunch, Coulson and Natasha expressed interest in browsing Randolph's books, but Solomon stopped them. Their souls had only just returned to their bodies, and Coulson, still grappling with the terrifying sights from the previous night, was teetering on the edge of madness. Reading those books now would only push him over the edge.

Coulson had also brought along the dog. Without the stray dog Jones, Solomon might have been helpless against Nyarlathotep's avatar the previous night. True to his word, he took Jones into the garden for a well-deserved bath. Jones gently nipped at Solomon's hand, seeming pleased with the mage's care.

As evening approached, Randolph returned and invited the newcomers to board the carriage parked outside his residence. He was taking them to the stone tower in the wilderness east of Salem. Once inside, Solomon noticed Abigail bundled in a blanket, her face pale and lost in a nightmare she couldn't escape.

"The influence of this reality is fading fast," Randolph said. "She's beginning to remember the events of 1692. We need to act swiftly. This is the last reset."

Randolph and Solomon didn't explain "reset" to the agents, and the mage hurried them onto the carriage as Randolph drove through the fervent townsfolk towards the eastern village. The tower they sought was an ancient, cylindrical structure built by Native Americans as an observatory for tracking the sun and stars. Later, with the settlers' arrival, the Native Americans abandoned it, and the now-deserted tower was a suitable place for their ritual.

Coulson's team had indeed constructed the altar, having received this information from Nyarlathotep to make his words more credible to the mage. When Coulson awoke, he confirmed that the altar was complete. As darkness fell, shadows from the east swallowed the land, erasing every trace of sunlight, and Randolph Carter led the outsiders to the stone tower.

Solomon left Coulson and Natasha at the tower's base, warning them to stay away from the tower regardless of what happened. He and Randolph climbed the stairs, carrying the blanketed Abigail to the top. According to Randolph, this ritual was special; Abigail was both the target and the offering. If Solomon wished to summon Yog-Sothoth, he would need to offer a sacrifice that pleased the One Who Merges All.

Solomon observed Randolph as he performed the ritual. Randolph placed his hands over his head, using his thumb and index finger to create an equilateral triangle, which he then reversed to form a parallelogram. Next, he flipped his left hand, creating another downward-facing triangle. Placing this triangle on his forehead, Randolph recited the "Yog-Sothoth Conjuration."

"Hear my call! King of the endless void! Star-mover! Firm foundation! Master of earthquakes! Terrifying conqueror! Creator of pain! Destroyer! Glorious victor! Child of the abyss! Guardian of the deep! Primordial God of Darkness! Lord of dimensions! Wise and enigmatic! Keeper of secrets! Master of mazes! Lord of angles! Hawk of night! Last peak! Gatekeeper! Pathfinder! Almighty Ancient Eternal! Umr at-Tawil! Iak-Sathath! Yog-Sothoth NAFL'FTHAGN! Your servant calls you!"

A strange noise followed, resembling the blare of a train horn mixed with jumbled voices. The mage could distinctly hear someone mentioning St. Louis Union Station. The dark night sky brightened as though everyone had suddenly passed through an entire night. Beneath Solomon's feet, a determined weed peeked out from between the bricks, then retracted, becoming a seed once again.

Time seemed fragmented, light fluctuated erratically, and Solomon found himself relying on external changes to gauge his surroundings. He saw bizarre creatures attempting to leap out of time, only to vanish as quickly. Everything around the tower descended into chaos. At one point, he saw a Ford car drive past, and he felt as if he could reach out and grab an ice cream cone from the child in the back seat.

Eventually, the phenomena blurred, as if he were viewing the world through frosted glass. As Randolph concluded the incantation, a faint light appeared on the horizon, hinting at either dawn or dusk. Though dim, it shone directly into his eyes, forcing him to squint. Through the haze, he saw a towering, humanoid silhouette, much larger than an average person.

Solomon knew what it was. Randolph Carter had taught him how to proceed. Upon its arrival, Yog-Sothoth's manifestation did not take Abigail Williams immediately. Instead, it dragged a barking dog—Jones—from the void. The sight was almost comical: the omniscient, omnipotent god clutching a squirming dog.

Eventually, Jones stopped whining, lowering his head in resigned defeat. Solomon realized that the stray dog Jones was no ordinary dog. It was a creature capable of harming Nyarlathotep's avatar.

"This is merely one of Nyarlathotep's pranks. Pay it no mind," said the Ancient Immortal.

Solomon lowered his head, avoiding direct eye contact with Yog-Sothoth's manifestation. But a force compelled him to look up, gazing into the form of Tawil at'Umr.

"Your debt is settled," a voice transmitted from the thick, gray fabric covering Tawil at'Umr's face, reaching Solomon's ears. "But you still have questions."

"Yes, venerable Ancient One," Solomon replied. "Many questions."

"I know your doubts, but you will not find answers here." The towering Ancient Immortal extended a finger toward the mage's chest. A silver key, accompanied by a delicate chain, hung around the mage's neck. "This is both a beginning and an end. You desire to walk among the stars and uncover each star's secrets. You long to understand the mysteries behind every spell, to remember them in full. You wish to stand at Satan's throne in Hell, gazing upon this world from the endless abyss. You yearn to wander the rivers of time and space, conversing with the world's wisest minds. This is your path, your destiny, and when you take this key, your fate splits from here."

———

Coulson rose to his feet, clutching his head. Behind him, the stone tower had crumbled into ruins. In front of him stretched a long, gray concrete road, and Solomon stood

 nearby, gazing at the roadside. Coulson nudged Natasha awake, who lay beside him.

"Where are we?" he asked the mage.

"Welcome to 2011." Solomon turned, the silver key on his chest gleaming in the morning light. "We're back."

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