Solomon in Marvel

"You haven't stayed long today."

The tough red-haired girl climbed to her feet, her tone sharp. "You don't look much older than me. What keeps you so busy? Or are you just another rich man, like the Americans who funded the rebels in my homeland—like Tony Stark—busy attending banquets and parties? Go on, then! Don't waste your time on some country girl like me!"

"Whoa! No need to be so resentful, Wanda. What's gotten into you today?"

This was the first time Wanda Maximoff had mentioned her past life to Solomon—but her attitude was far from pleasant.

Perhaps her elevated blood pressure from the exercise was affecting her hormones. A girl who had never been taught rational thinking was now letting her emotions take full control.

Solomon noticed this immediately.

He put the Sling Ring he had just taken out back into his pocket and sat down on Wanda's bed. This was both a good and bad thing. Wanda could draw power from her emotions, but she couldn't let them overwhelm her.

Especially emotions like hatred.

For Wanda, hatred was particularly dangerous. She could use it to amplify her power, but Chthon could also use it to get closer to her (Psychic Domain: Hatred). If she became consumed by it, Chthon's influence over her would be maximized.

That would render all of Solomon's careful preparations useless. He needed to correct this immediately.

Though it was his first time as a teacher, Solomon had witnessed the Sorcerer Supreme mentor apprentices many times.

He knew how to reason with someone.

"Do you remember what I told you, Wanda? I know pieces of your life—fragments that shaped you. I know what you've been through, what you've seen. It's completely normal for you to feel this way."

Solomon reached into his pocket and pulled out two small bags of snacks.

These expensive treats were ones Wanda had only ever seen in commercials on her old TV or in the hands of well-dressed children. She hadn't forgotten how, as a child, she had longed for these unattainable foods. Even after growing up and working small jobs, she couldn't bear to buy them for herself.

Now, she tore into the snacks with vengeance, but the sweetness brought her no joy.

"I'm not here to tell you to let go of your hatred. That's something left-wing white liberals say. That whole 'revenge leaves you empty inside' nonsense in movies? Bullshit! Let me tell you—revenge feels damn good!"

Wanda shot Solomon a glance.

It was the first time she had heard him curse. It made him seem more human—less like a perfectly masked puppet.

In truth, Solomon had always had a foul mouth. He wasn't born perfect. He had just learned to restrain himself after attending Eton—because Athena didn't like it when he swore. And Solomon was obedient; he liked Athena very much.

Now that the restraint was off, he didn't mind setting aside his polished rhetoric for a more relatable conversation with Wanda.

"My teacher isn't exactly the forgiving type either. The Sorcerer Supreme never preaches about 'letting go of hatred'—not until after revenge is taken."

Solomon chuckled as he spoke, watching Wanda's mental defenses begin to erode.

Swearing created a sense of camaraderie, closing the emotional distance between people. He had read about it in a psychology book.

He lifted his legs onto the bed, physically reducing the space between them.

"I know what those bastard rebels did. And it didn't just happen in your country. It happened in Tunisia, in Egypt, in Libya. I know more than one Sokovian girl who was sold to Western Europe as a child to become a prostitute."

Solomon leaned closer.

"Do you remember the slogans those rebels shouted? If they were really fighting for justice, then why did those girls still end up in those situations? Wanda, do you even know who you should be hating?"

"Who are you hating? Tony Stark? The rebels?"

He watched as the red-haired girl remained silent, her face half-hidden behind her long locks.

She had stopped eating.

"You're searching for something—someone—to blame. Because the truth is, you don't really know who killed your parents. You don't know who destroyed your family."

Perhaps as the sweat on her body cooled, so did her emotions.

Seeing that Wanda was calming down, Solomon continued.

"What does Sokovia have? A tiny monarchy under a dictatorship. No natural resources. No advanced technology. The only reason it's strategically important is because it's near Russia. Do you really think Stark Industries had any reason to waste its high-tech weapons here? Do you think the rebels could even afford those expensive arms?"

"You see?" Solomon tapped Wanda's chest with a finger—then, realizing it was inappropriate, corrected himself and tapped her forehead instead.

"The answer is already clear."

"I'm not here to defend Tony Stark. As an arms-dealing capitalist, he's far from innocent. If you want revenge on him, go ahead. But before you do, make sure you understand who really killed your parents. Who tore your family apart."

Wanda was silent for a long moment before finally asking, "Then will you tell me what you're up to?"

"All I know is your name. I know nothing else about you. Are you rich? What keeps you so busy? And that girl you brought last time—who is she?"

"I suppose I'm quite wealthy," Solomon said with a smirk.

"But my financial situation doesn't align with conventional systems. The U.S. dollar is just paper to me. Gold is what truly holds value—both for its rarity and its magical properties. A sorcerer sees gold as an indispensable resource."

Solomon had no issue closing the distance between them. Wanda's curiosity about his life was a clear signal.

"As for that girl—she really might be your sister from a parallel universe."

"You've heard of parallel worlds, haven't you? Just like in the novels. Her name is Lorna Dane. She grew up in an orphanage before my foster mother adopted her, so she's my sister by adoption."

He smiled. "There are many things that keep me busy. I study science at Oxford. I study magic under the most powerful mystical order in this dimension. But today, something else takes priority."

"What?"

"My new armor is almost complete."

Solomon grinned and winked.

"Well… technically, it's my teacher's old armor. But with my teacher's permission, the legendary Dwarven craftsmen reforged and enhanced it under an ancient contract. It combines the designs of some of the greatest minds in human history with cutting-edge technology from modern scientists. This armor is built for the wars of the future. If you've been keeping up with the news, you'll know that the biggest threats to humanity now… come from above."

"The Dwarves have already forged a hundred sets of unparalleled giant armor for me. But the one I'm picking up today… is their masterpiece."

"You're preparing to fight aliens?"

Wanda immediately caught on.

"Wait… does that mean you're the knight? The Arthur they talk about? Are you an Avenger?"

"Don't lump me in with those self-righteous narcissists, Wanda," Solomon wagged his finger.

"I've never joined that ridiculous organization. Kamar-Taj fights for humanity as a whole. Unless a threat emerges that could end civilization, we do not interfere in the affairs of the material plane. At least, not yet."

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