Solomon in Marvel

Dressed in his finest suit, with his hair neatly styled and a specially prepared bouquet in hand, Solomon stepped through a portal into the witches' apartment. As expected, Bayonetta and Jeanne were lounging on the couch, sipping drinks in their skin-tight battle attire, legs crossed in a relaxed manner. Meanwhile, Lara Croft sat awkwardly nearby. She held a glass of alcohol but didn't seem nearly as at ease as the two witches. Her fatigue was evident, and her discomfort was heightened by the presence of a short dagger lying on the coffee table—a weapon she had relied on heavily during their recent ordeal on the island.

Although Lara had transitioned from a regular university student to a resilient adventurer, the witches' presence had disrupted her sense of balance. More perplexing to her was the fact that these two incredibly seductive women apparently had some kind of relationship with Solomon.

Without acknowledging Lara, Solomon strode directly to Bayonetta, a rare breach of courtesy on his part. With a warm smile, he revealed the "bouquet" from behind his back—a collection of rose-shaped pink lollipops, crafted from magic-infused candy designed to restore mana. Bayonetta's favorite.

Before Jeanne could speak, Solomon preemptively apologized for neglecting Bayonetta's preferences in the past, vowing not to make the same mistake again.

Bayonetta narrowed her eyes with pleasure and gracefully accepted the gift. However, her playful nature soon resurfaced as she picked up the worn short dagger from the table, its blade marked with Solomon's insignia. Placing the cold steel against his throat, she teased him with a dangerous smile.

The message was clear: I'm far more dangerous than this dagger.

The blade was one of Solomon's early works from his training with Rodin. Though made from ordinary steel, it had been folded and tempered using a layered forging technique, making it both durable and perfectly balanced. He had gifted it to Lara, who needed a reliable weapon for close combat during her ordeal.

The scent of fresh soap reached Solomon's nose. Lara, now clad in one of his T-shirts and a pair of jeans, had clearly been given a bath by the witches, who had likely disposed of her filthy clothes. Her wounds were neatly bandaged, and her damp hair clung to her flushed cheeks. Despite their usual grumbling, the witches had taken good care of her, even offering a stiff drink to help calm her nerves.

The fridge's contents had also mysteriously disappeared, evidenced by Lara's subtle hiccup. Embarrassed, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum.

"Clearly, you've brought more than just a gift for me," Bayonetta purred, her voice soft and teasing like a feather stroking one's mind. "You naughty boy... Perhaps you need a harsher punishment."

She slowly slid the blade downward, its edge effortlessly slicing through Solomon's shirt buttons. Leaning in closer, she fixed her gaze on his eyes, her warm breath brushing his skin.

"Darling, not here..." Jeanne intervened quickly, pulling Bayonetta back. Lara's face flushed even deeper as the tension in the room mounted.

"Fine," Bayonetta relented with a playful smirk, her voice full of satisfaction at Solomon's visible reaction. "I'll spare you for now, naughty boy."

"Since we have time, why don't you regale us with tales of your adventure?" Solomon suggested, clapping his hands. Heavy curtains slid shut, blocking out the harsh New York sunlight. With another clap, blankets floated out from the bedroom and draped themselves over everyone. A fireless flame crackled to life in the fireplace, casting a comforting glow that created a warm, Victorian atmosphere.

Solomon snuggled under Bayonetta's blanket, his heart racing as she playfully wrapped her legs around his lap and whispered into his ear, her lips brushing his earlobe. She delighted in watching him struggle to maintain composure, her toes curling with anticipation at his every reaction.

Diana silently poured drinks for everyone, placing a fresh glass in Solomon's hand. Wrapped in blankets, with whisky in hand and the firelight dancing across their faces, the scene resembled a cozy Victorian parlor—albeit with Bayonetta's seductive games adding an electric undercurrent to the atmosphere.

Finally, Lara took a sip of her drink, steadied herself, and began recounting her harrowing adventure.

(*For details, refer to the events of Tomb Raider (2013).)

"Thank you to both Bayonetta and Jeanne for helping my friends escape the island on their yacht..." Lara said, her voice laced with gratitude.

"So," Solomon interjected, "a soul meant to belong to the Lady of Butterflies avoided the Abyss and attempted reincarnation in the mortal world. Meanwhile, your companion turned out to be a descendant of that witch." He glanced between Bayonetta and Jeanne, his expression turning serious. "Are you prepared to defy your master's covenant?" he asked softly. "The price of a witch's contract is both universal and deadly."

"Do you really think you'd let my soul fall into the Abyss?" Bayonetta teased.

"Of course not," Solomon replied firmly. "Even if I have to descend into the Abyss myself, I'll bring you back. But that Queen of Sheba… I haven't fully uncovered her connection to Lilith yet. During the last incident with the Son of the Devil, you encountered that succubus. Luckily, she summoned mortal vampires instead of her monstrous offspring. Otherwise, we might've been caught off guard."

"You'll live as long as I do, little boy," Bayonetta whispered, her lips curling into a smirk. "A thousand years won't be nearly enough for us."

"And what of the witch named Himiko?" Solomon inquired.

"Still there," Jeanne replied, casting a glance at Lara. "We keep her where she belongs—so certain people don't accidentally wander in."

"Are there really demons in this world?" Lara blurted out.

"Absolutely," Solomon said with a grin. "You're looking at three demon summoners right now." He gestured to a nearby figure snoozing on the couch. "That's Phoenix, one of the seventy-two demonic pillars. His hobbies include poetry and singing—though his songs aren't for mortal ears."

Lara froze in shock. "The Phoenix? I've read about the Key of Solomon! Is this… this isn't Baal, is it?" She pointed cautiously at a fat cat curled up on her lap.

"No," Solomon chuckled, "that's just a chubby cat from Avalon."

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