Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

"Classical literature, huh? Interesting. But why do I need to study thermodynamics? Isn't that a college course? Celestial mechanics? I'm in high school, not a nuclear research institute," Solomon, now viewed by Athena as entering his rebellious phase, couldn't help but complain. "You don't expect me to build a nuclear reactor right now, do you?"

"Shut up and follow my curriculum. The Sorcerer Supreme doesn't have a degree; I do. Your coursework is entirely under my control," Athena suddenly snapped. "In a way, I'm your mother, so you have to listen to me."

"But this isn't ancient Greece anymore."

"That's exactly what rebellion looks like. The more I tell you to do something, the more you resist. Why can't you listen to me the way you listen to the Sorcerer Supreme?" Athena exhaled deeply and patted her chest. "Alright, let's talk openly."

"I know full-time school feels strange to you, but your life can't just revolve around magic. You should have some normal human experiences. You should enjoy wine and flowers. Even after thousands of years, these things never go out of style. I understand the hormones surging through your body might make me seem annoying, but you deserve to have what normal people have." Athena continued, "I've even prepared a gift for you—a Ducati motorcycle. I know you won't stay at school all the time, so I left it downstairs as your gift. You can ride it around town, meet some ordinary girls, maybe even spend the night with them. I won't mind, as long as you remember to use protection. You've had sex ed already. But spies and witches? No. You can't handle them; they'll take advantage of you."

"Not that I have much interest in motorcycles," Solomon hesitated. "But you know I'm a believer in gender equality..."

"That's great. At least you're smarter than the ancient Greeks, who didn't even give women the right to vote." Athena raised an eyebrow. "Ever since they voted to execute Socrates, I've thought they were a bunch of idiots. Now, continue."

"I don't see anything wrong with witches, Athena," Solomon almost choked on his words. Talking with immortals could be exhausting. "Relationships are a form of negotiation, a balance. People need to work through things together. Besides, I really don't have any relationship with the spy."

Athena, who had lived for millennia and had seen countless "bitches," almost blurted something out but held back. She decided to rephrase her thoughts, but Solomon spoke first.

"These dynamics aren't usually shown in romantic films. I suppose you don't have much experience with this since, well, you are the virgin goddess..."

"But I've lived for a long time."

"I doubt ancient plays covered this sort of thing..."

"But I've lived for a long time."

"..."

"Anything else?"

"I'm heading back to Kamar-Taj."

"Don't forget to come by tomorrow night; you already stood up little Lorna once."

---

Solomon's full-time school life wasn't much different from when he attended a private school.

He would sleep at Kamar-Taj until 7 AM London time, then open a portal to return to his dorm at Eton College to freshen up, get dressed, and don his cape (so the dorm warden could see him). Then he'd enjoy the unique sixteenth-century British court breakfast that the old dormitory offered (or opt for the modern menu, but any wise student knew which option to pick, right?).

His main courses included the standard trio of math, physics, and chemistry, along with advanced mathematics, which was the most useful to him since much of his magic required precise calculations that relied on his intellect. As part of Year D, he was assigned to ten study groups. Besides the core subjects and physical education, he also had courses in art (mainly drama), classical languages (Greek and Latin), modern foreign languages (which, in his case, meant Chinese), theology, and modern English (counting as two study groups). Most of these weren't A-Level courses, but they were mandatory for his year group.

Solomon's favorite subjects were chemistry and physics. Although they had been challenging in his past life, Eton College provided ample opportunities for hands-on experiments. In his free time, Solomon could use the school's equipment to work on his alchemy projects.

He didn't plan to follow the path of a mutagenic alchemist—those who drank transformation potions and clawed at people seemed a bit mad to him. Instead, he focused on alchemical bombs and healing potions, with a short-term goal of creating an elixir to boost his mental faculties and enhance his inspiration. Whether he'd become a mental powerhouse, a master of construct creation, or a hand-to-hand combat-focused apothecary depended on what his magical journey required in the future.

As for the materials for his alchemy, he obtained them by using a portal from Kamar-Taj to visit the interdimensional wizard city of Vandazar-Four. As a nexus between different dimensions, Vandazar-Four served as a meeting point for all sorcerers from the material plane[Note 1]. It was like a universal "No-Entry Tavern," accessible only to spellcasters. Vandazar-Four was also a significant source of magical materials for Kamar-Taj, so Solomon's herb orders didn't raise any eyebrows. In addition, he discreetly captured a blue magic-eating slug from Vandazar-Four's garden and kept it in a box. These sticky creatures were the lowest of magical creatures and entirely useless, except for their ability to consume magic. Solomon wasn't keen on dumping his failed potions into the sewer, worried that one day four turtles in different colored bandanas might crawl out and call him "Dad." He wasn't ready for that yet. Having a magic-eating slug would take care of any alchemical waste.

As far as Solomon was concerned, Eton wouldn't mind if a few flasks and the dorm warden's wine corks went missing. And sure enough, apart from the warden being soaked in wine, no one cared.

Wait a minute! The sorcerer suddenly realized. Is this Eton College or Hogwarts? They don't seem all that different! 

This amusing thought quickly left Solomon's mind as he became more preoccupied with another matter—Nick Fury's constant text messages. The guy sent messages every day but never got to the point, constantly probing for Solomon's whereabouts. Whenever Solomon visited Athena's Mount Olympus or Bayonetta's apartment, he'd turn off his phone to avoid being tracked by S.H.I.E.L.D. After all, the U.S.'s PRISM program wasn't just run by the CIA; organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. also had their hands in global surveillance.

In Nick Fury's eyes, Solomon was an incredibly dangerous individual—a magical assassin who never followed any laws, only the rules of an ancient organization, and possessed global mobility. Fury didn't believe this organization had any "no killing" rule, especially after witnessing what happened to his strike team. The lone survivor could only drink juice through a straw to stay alive. Bound by the contract, Fury couldn't disclose any information about Solomon to his agents or colleagues, leaving him to personally monitor Solomon. This "monitoring" happened daily. Whenever Solomon turned his phone back on after being off, he'd receive a flood of messages from Fury.

Nick Fury knew these messages were futile. There was no way he could restrict a sorcerer using any national means. Attempting to do so could even provoke a magical retaliation. Plus, Solomon had an organization backing him that was older than American history itself. Fury wasn't about to provoke them. All he could do was send texts.

Initially, Solomon replied to Fury's messages, but after months of this barrage, he'd learned to ignore them. However, he couldn't block Fury since the man would just use different numbers to text him.

"I don't want to waste my romantic texts on a man. Can't you let Agent Natasha Romanoff handle this? At least I'd feel better knowing there's a beauty on the other end. Your bald head doesn't do it for me at all. Here's my list of automated responses: 'No insurance,' 'No loans,' 'Claimed unemployment benefits,' 'Divorce—I want the kids,' or 'Detected nuclear fusion strike in progress.' Feel free to choose."

Solomon pressed send and set the message for delayed delivery. He had timed it perfectly so the text would reach Fury in the middle of the night in Washington as a little payback for the constant interruptions. The sorcerer felt satisfied and ready to end his day. Tomorrow marked his third month at Eton. Apart from his extracurricular work and morning chapel sessions, he'd completed all his school tasks flawlessly. He didn't participate in any dorm debates or choir activities and only met the minimum required for sports. Other than that, he had no faults—not even the strict warden could find anything wrong with his dining etiquette.

The Michaelmas term was almost over, and he had an upcoming exam and report, but that wouldn't be a problem for him.

At 9 PM London time, which was 2 AM in Washington, Solomon had just taken a dose of his universal elixir[Note 2]to help him focus on reading a magic book when his scheduled message was sent. Fury quickly replied. Curious, Solomon glanced at his phone, wondering why Fury was awake at this hour. And more importantly, which automated response had Fury chosen? That was the real reason for Solomon's curiosity.

"We need to talk," Fury's message read. "I need your help."

"No!" Solomon swiftly replied, skipping any formalities since Fury

 wasn't one for them either.

___________________

Read Ahead

[email protected]/Mutter