The Holy Son in Marvel

"What happened to your forehead? Did you encounter an enemy yesterday?" Mordo asked, frowning as he turned to Solomon. Though his intention was to check on his younger peer, the setting of their conversation—a cold, immaculate dungeon in Kamar-Taj's headquarters—added a certain tension to his tone, turning it from concern into something more like interrogation.

"No," Solomon grumbled, sounding uncomfortably Scottish in his muttered response.

"After receiving the alert about the angelic incursion, you left with the witch," Mordo said as he led Solomon toward the dimly lit exit. "Did you end up at Hell's Gate?"

"I promise I didn't drink, Brother Mordo—just cola." Solomon defended himself. "It's just a small bruise, nothing serious. And please, don't argue with me about which cola tastes better. I mean it."

"I already know about your little escapade with Kaecilius at the Bar With No Doors," Mordo replied, clearly skeptical. Mordo was notoriously strict, a steadfast disciple of the Supreme Sorcerer's ascetic discipline. Even the elders of some mystical families couldn't match his devotion.

"That was ages ago, Brother. You found out way too late, and I had no idea you had informants in the Bar With No Doors." Solomon sighed, resigning himself to Mordo's scrutiny. As Kamar-Taj's go-to enforcer of all manner of petty rules, Mordo never hesitated to point out even the smallest infraction. Except for the Supreme Sorcerer, no one could avoid his reproach, and even the naturally saintly Solomon found Mordo a bit overbearing.

"Even minor infractions break our code. Kaecilius led you to violate secular law and Kamar-Taj's precepts. But don't worry; it was a small matter, and he's already been disciplined." Mordo tapped Solomon's bruised forehead, causing him to wince. Mordo ignored Solomon's glare and continued, "Kaecilius will be involved in the mission to apprehend the flaming skull, the Ghost Rider. It's essentially community service for Kamar-Taj. This time, we're catching a lower-plane creature who escaped from the grip of a major infernal being. And don't forget, the entire Earth is under the Supreme Sorcerer's watch. If she wishes to know, she can be aware of everything that happens in even the smallest places, including the Bar With No Doors. She's the one who told me about it, after all."

"That's exactly what I wanted to discuss." Solomon stopped, his tone serious, prompting Mordo to do the same and listen closely. "Don't go near the Ghost Rider, Brother," Solomon cautioned. "If he's in human form, it's safe. But at night, when he transforms… I believe it's best for anyone to keep their distance."

Solomon's warning wasn't without reason; he'd received a message from Nick Fury, requesting additional magical support because S.H.I.E.L.D.'s team couldn't contain the Ghost Rider's actions—not even Captain America. Solomon had anticipated this. Fury would try everything to restrain the Ghost Rider, and the team was merely one attempt—one that had ended with them burned to ash under the Rider's Penance Stare, their very souls obliterated.

After this failure, Fury had come to Solomon, knowing that per Solomon's suggestion, Captain America wouldn't lose his soul to the Ghost Rider. However, that was the only assurance Fury had. As for Tony Stark, Fury deemed him unsuitable for this mission; he had no desire to risk Stark's life, especially given that Stark had probably broken more than a few of the Ten Commandments.

"That thing doesn't follow Kamar-Taj's code; it follows the Ten Commandments," Solomon said, a touch of sarcasm in his tone. "We don't follow God, and we technically violate the first Commandment. You think that thing wouldn't see us as monstrous sinners?"

"Is this what the Supreme Sorcerer told you?" Mordo hesitated, then asked, "Did she say anything else? We've identified the Ghost Rider's human identity and are ready to apprehend him at any time."

"The secular intelligence agencies know too. If we act, we'll risk exposing Kamar-Taj's existence." Solomon stepped onto the stairs, pulling up his phone to show Mordo the message. "This is a text from the S.H.I.E.L.D. director. If we try to capture the Ghost Rider, not only will we risk getting our souls burned to ash, but we'll risk exposure as well."

"Fine. So, what are the Supreme Sorcerer's instructions?"

"I think my excuse to sit out this mission is no longer valid, Mordo. The Supreme Sorcerer didn't want me involved so that Mephisto wouldn't take notice of me. But that concern no longer matters, as I've already met him."

"What?" Mordo's eyes widened in shock. "Did you sign anything? Make any promises…"

"No, no." Solomon reassured him, somewhat puzzled. "Didn't the Supreme Sorcerer tell you I'd met Mephisto in his human form?"

"Not a word, Solomon!" Mordo clenched his hands anxiously. "Demons are the craftiest beings in existence, you…"

"I understand your concern, Brother Mordo. But I promise I didn't sign any contracts or make verbal commitments. I left no blood or hair, nothing to worry about. The Supreme Sorcerer taught me well."

"Alright," Mordo sighed. "Next time you encounter a demon, call for backup. This is Mephisto we're talking about."

"Which is exactly why I didn't call for help," Solomon replied. "Who knows if his mortal form could tap into infernal power at any moment? Other than the Supreme Sorcerer, no one else could stop him. Alone, I could escape more easily."

"No matter what, we're concerned for your safety, Solomon. You're an invaluable ally to Kamar-Taj, and if necessary, I would lay down my life to protect you." Mordo rubbed his brow, looking pained. "For now, let's consult the Supreme Sorcerer. I don't want Kamar-Taj to lose lives to this Ghost Rider."

---

"I could get you an autograph," Coulson said, standing beside Solomon in front of the screen showing Captain America pacing on the monitor. The avid Captain America fan winked at Solomon. "It may not be the best time to approach him, as S.H.I.E.L.D. is trying to reduce direct contact with him, but an autograph shouldn't be too hard."

"Right, shouldn't be a problem, just asking for a signature from America's favorite icon." Solomon replied distractedly, glancing back over his shoulder. If it weren't for the group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stationed behind Coulson, all intently working on their computers, he might agree that it was "just an autograph." In reality, anyone who approached Captain America was subject to strict scrutiny. Even Coulson's autograph idea was frowned upon; Agent Victoria Hand, overseeing this mission, was known for her zero-tolerance policy.

"Honestly, I'm just curious." S.H.I.E.L.D. Level 6 Agent Coulson shrugged. "With flaming skeletons now appearing, is there anything left that's impossible?"

"Like, say, going back three hundred years?"

"Hey, hey!" Coulson glanced around nervously, lowering his voice. "That's a top-secret mission!"

"Good, because there's another matter I came to discuss with you." Solomon extended his hand toward Coulson in a "hand it over" gesture. "I'm here to collect the book you borrowed from Randolph Carter's bookshelf."

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