Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

Solomon felt that his plan didn't need much adjustment. For a naive and romantic guy like Thor, he believed a barrel of Jack Daniel's whiskey would be enough to deal with him. If possible, he even wanted to steal a bottle of mead from the upcoming banquet. He chuckled at the thought of the poor, golden-haired prince in need of comfort from his homeland, picturing Thor's pitiful face.

"Don't take too much pleasure in this," the Sorcerer Supreme said. "Asgard is still our ally."

"If Thor keeps acting like that, he won't be our ally—he'll be our enemy. And I don't think I'd get along with him anyway," Solomon replied. "Besides, Asgard has other candidates for the throne, right?"

The Sorcerer Supreme glanced at her disciple, sensing that Solomon's words carried deeper meaning. She thought Solomon was referring to Loki, but in reality, Solomon was talking about Hela, the Goddess of Death. If Odin's parenting plan failed, Solomon would rather ally with Hela—provided he could match her in strength. Bathed in blood, Hela represented Odin's most ruthless side. In the same way, Solomon was destined to embody the Sorcerer Supreme's most merciless and cold-hearted aspect.

"The other heir's attitude is far worse," the Sorcerer Supreme said, turning her gaze to the Einherjar soldiers as they evacuated the civilians. "Only iron and blood will make the other heir accept you, just as I had to prove myself to Odin. If you think you can handle it, it's worth trying. We'll face tremendous challenges in the future, and we'll need a strong ally. That ally doesn't have to be Thor."

"We should still have time, Master." Solomon rubbed the blue gemstone on his ring with his thumb. "I've already thought about how to handle what's coming, even though it may not be something most people want to see. But the future is always tied to the loss of life—whether it's my own or others'. Only those prepared to make that sacrifice can carve a path through the darkness and lead the way to the light. In the worst-case scenario, my life may end too, but isn't it our duty to pave a bright future for humanity?"

These weren't just lofty words; they were the side effects of the sacred mark's memory. Witnessing the deaths of countless lives had made Solomon indifferent to both his own and others' lives. This detachment would only grow stronger with age. For now, the strict rules at Kamar-Taj helped limit these effects, and Solomon hadn't shed any innocent blood yet, but that wouldn't last forever. Circumstances would eventually force his hand. Unlike most transmigrators who clung to their lives, Solomon wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice his if necessary, a mindset that would seem insane to the notoriously selfish "Fourth Calamity."

Even though the Sorcerer Supreme had intended for Solomon to bear the bloodiest and darkest burdens, hearing these words from him still cast a shadow over her normally calm expression. It wasn't just Solomon's premature maturity that worried her; she didn't want him to reach the hellish depths of responsibility too soon. The Phoenix residing at Kamar-Taj constantly reminded her of the 1,200-year cycle that Solomon was destined to endure.

"I want you to be happy, but I also want you to bear the worst of it, to shoulder what I've carried. I know that's a contradiction," the Sorcerer Supreme admitted. "I'm sorry, Solomon. You're only fifteen. You shouldn't be thinking about these things, and you haven't even inherited my title yet. This isn't your burden to carry right now. I thought that a full-time school might help you think like others your age, but it seems I was wrong."

"I know what I need to do now, and I understand what my future holds, Master. You don't have to apologize," Solomon said with a smile. "Everyone has responsibilities. As your disciple, this is mine. I know this sacred mark isn't a blessing, and I don't care about some so-called heaven. Kamar-Taj is my home. Sure, it's cold, there's no heating, and it snows all the time, but… it's still home. Besides, I have people in this world who I love and who love me, and that's enough. Some things are more important than life."

"I'm very pleased, Solomon, truly pleased," the Sorcerer Supreme said. "There's no need for us to keep watching. Odin has everything under control, and if things go well, Thor will grow from this. I'll also give you an opportunity. At the right moment, you'll face Asgard's other heir. The risks are yours to bear."

"I understand, Master," Solomon said, lowering his head. "I'm prepared for everything."

After Queen Frigga finished directing the Einherjar soldiers to secure the palace, she looked back, only to find that the Sorcerer Supreme and Solomon had already disappeared. She took a deep breath and began instructing her handmaidens to prepare for Odin's return from the treasury. The Sorcerer Supreme had done all she could; now, it was up to Odin to carry out the rest of the plan.

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In the small town of Puente Antiguo, New Mexico, it was night. A camper van was parked in the desert, its engine still running, and the headlights illuminated the barren landscape.

Inside the van, a woman sat among a pile of instruments, pen in hand, calculating data. She turned and tapped the seat, causing the woman in the driver's seat, Darcy Lewis, to frown and turn off the lights. Astrophysicist Jane Foster climbed through the sunroof, clutching a strange device, and mounted it on the roof of the van. Her mentor, Erik Selvig, joined her, watching as his student bustled about.

After a while, the readings on Jane Foster's device hit zero, and the night sky remained clear. Every star was visible in the New Mexico sky. What would normally be a stargazer's dream weather was a source of frustration for Jane, as it wasn't the result she had hoped for.

"We'll wait a little longer," she said, still holding on to hope.

"Can I listen to the radio?" Darcy asked.

"No!" Jane rejected the idea without hesitation, causing Darcy to slump back into the driver's seat, annoyed. Darcy wasn't even an astrophysics student—Jane had struggled to find an intern willing to help with her research, which many deemed absurd. Astrophysics students had labeled Jane Foster a "madwoman," dismissing her work as a dead-end.

But Darcy needed credits, or else she would have to retake her courses, and Jane needed an intern who could actually help. So, the two had found each other. Darcy couldn't follow Jane's calculations or theories, but Jane quickly realized that Darcy was excellent at moving equipment around—a skill she'd gained from years of carrying heavy loads that left her shoulders aching.

"Jane, you can't keep doing this," Erik Selvig said kindly, though his words only worsened Jane's mood.

"The predictions for the last seventeen events were accurate to the second!" Jane snapped, furiously flipping through the records of her past experiments, trying to pinpoint where she had gone wrong.

"Jane, you're an astrophysicist, not some storm chaser," Erik reminded her, referring to those who pursued tornadoes across America's storm belt. In his opinion, linking astrophysics to Earth's weather phenomena seemed far-fetched, but Jane hurriedly defended herself.

"I've told you before," she said, "these atmospheric disturbances are connected to my research. Erik, if I weren't 100% sure, I wouldn't have called you all the way from England."

Erik sighed in response.

Darcy had no idea what her mentors were discussing; all she knew was that her shoulders were aching again after loading the equipment into the van earlier. Suddenly, she spotted a strange phenomenon in the rearview mirror—blue auroras pierced through the clouds, accompanied by a strong wind that swept across the land. The clouds rolled like waves, and beams of light illuminated the dark desert. Though it wasn't exactly what Jane had predicted, it was close enough for her to order Darcy to drive towards the storm.

They saw a black tornado descend from the sky, and the once-still sand was whipped up into the air, pelting the van's windows. Darcy swerved the van hard, trying to steer them away from the chaos.

"What are you doing?!" Jane shouted, camera in hand.

"I'm not about to die for six school credits!" Darcy cried. School was one thing—she could always retake the course—but losing her life? That was too much! Jane, however, grabbed the wheel, trying to steer them back towards the storm. Darcy yelled, "It's just a storm, not a man! Why are you so eager to throw yourself at it?"

Suddenly, the center of the black tornado lit up, a beam of light accompanied by thunder striking the ground. Through the flashing light, Darcy caught a glimpse of a figure in the storm. She slammed on the brakes, but the van was already out of control. It skidded and crashed into the figure before spinning wildly and coming to a halt in the desert.

The three of them sat in stunned silence for a moment. They quickly got out, flashlights in hand, and ran toward the poor person they had hit. They weren't here for a hit-and-run—they were here to observe astronomical phenomena. Who could have predicted that a drunk or addict would suddenly show up in front of their vehicle?

"I think, legally, this is your fault!" Darcy's voice was on

 the verge of tears. She had come for school credits, not to go to prison! Everything was ruined—she never should have followed this crazy professor…

"Get the first aid kit!" Jane knelt down beside the figure, shining her flashlight on his face. "Please, don't die!"

"Oh!" Darcy gasped, taken aback by the man's physique. "Does he need CPR? I know how to do CPR!"

Thor, still reeling from the shock of his banishment, had just been thrown from the Bifrost. He looked up at the woman kneeling before him, then collapsed back onto the ground, utterly defeated.

"Where did he come from?" Jane wondered. His face was clean, his beard neatly trimmed. He didn't look like an addict, and she couldn't smell any alcohol. He didn't seem like a drunk. There were no vehicles nearby, no signs of transportation. Had this guy walked all the way out here? Why was he wandering the desert in the middle of the night?

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"Why are you here?" Jeanne asked, surprised to see Solomon half-lying on the sofa when she got home from work. "Weren't you supposed to be at some ceremony?"

"I'm waiting for love to bloom," Solomon said, holding a cat and half-closing his eyes. "Not mine, but the Foolish Prince's. The Sorcerer Supreme has even roped the All-Father into her plans."

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