The girl had her eyes shut, red hair clinging damply to her forehead. Pale blue and pink lights flickered madly beneath her eyelids, making her feel sick. In a daze, she saw the nightmare from her childhood appear once again—that bomb, the one that could go off at any second. That fear seized every muscle in her body, made her afraid to move, as if her very breath might set it off and tear her into pieces. She wanted to cry. Logic screamed at her to get away from the thing that could kill her at any moment, but she couldn't. She felt like a servant cowering under a cruel master, hiding under the bed, too terrified to budge. The nights in Sokovia were freezing, her lungs felt like they were turning to ice, her toes and fingertips were going numb.
After all these years, she was still that little girl trembling under the bed.
Her breath came in heavy gasps. Her heart pounded relentlessly, each beat slamming into her ribcage with pain. She forced herself to open her eyes again, to look at the twisted pentagram before her and the loathsome rune inscribed upon it. This was madness. All of this was madness. And it was all because of this ridiculous test! I don't know! I don't remember! No—no, this test was what she had asked for! She had promised herself she would learn—learn those dark, unfathomable truths, the cosmic terrors that defied all understanding.
Her frozen fingers twitched, the scrapes on her knuckles stung as cold tears dripped down. That pain pulled her out of the hallucination. She steadied herself again. Deep breath. Fill the lungs. Exhale.
She felt reborn.
It's just like The Price Is Right, she thought. Stay calm. Think. Don't panic.
Wanda's emotions shifted rapidly in the span of seconds. Solomon narrowed his eyes and quietly lowered the wand that had been aimed at her, redirecting it to the parchment and urging the quill to keep writing. He knew exactly what danger he was playing with—each of these lessons tested Wanda Maximoff's resistance to corrupt magic. And no one truly knew what would happen if Wanda lost control. At Kamar-Taj, only the Ancient One and Solomon had experience wielding the power of the Great Old Ones. None of the other Masters had delved that deeply. The Vishanti forbade it. Not everyone had the will to resist the fall into madness.
The truth was, those filth-ridden black magics were a perfect fit for Wanda. Solomon had already explained their dangers to her. Blocking her from ever touching black magic was unrealistic—sooner or later, she would encounter it. Chthon would bring her what she needed. Solomon couldn't watch her every moment, so all of her learning and experimentation had to happen under his eyes. He had to be there every time she looked into the abyss.
Again and again, Solomon exposed her to black magic, and Wanda had to hold back her emotions under his supervision.
That was the hardest part—her talent was too compatible. For Wanda, wielding black magic was as easy as breathing. Every lesson tested her will. She had to confront nightmares. Face death.
Brutal. Ruthless. Insane.
That was the price of black magic. The greater the power, the higher the cost. That was the truth of the universe.
When Wanda opened her eyes again, her breathing sounded distant and muffled. The tiny cell, the harsh fluorescent lights—all were now veiled by cold, gray-white mist. She swallowed instinctively. Only then did she notice the sound of voices—men talking just outside the cell. It was the guards. The ones she had tricked with the simplest of spells so many times before.
But just like her own breathing, those voices were no longer clear. She had to focus just to make out what they were saying. Before she could gather her thoughts, a sickening, squelching dragging noise approached—tap, tap, squelch. Through the fog, Wanda saw it.
A monster. Wriggling mass, limbs and tendrils growing wildly, eyes scattered haphazardly across its surface blinking with manic, chaotic light.
"Ethereal Transformation lets you shift your body into this realm. You can call it the shallow aether or liminal realm," came a voice.
All of Wanda's tension vanished in an instant. Like a warm breeze pushing away the cold, sensation returned to her frozen limbs. She thought of yellow lamplight, a table with a checkered tablecloth, stew simmering, and her family's noise and laughter. She smiled involuntarily and looked to her teacher.
Solomon hovered slightly behind her. Like Wanda, he was in his spirit form, but that didn't stop him from casting spells.
"This is our target. Take out your prepared figurine. According to the lesson, you're to bind this creature as your aetheric hunter. It will guard you, chase enemies, and strike. A highly useful tool—just like the twelve Cabalistic Vocal Golems I showed you. But this one you can carry with you. Very convenient."
"It doesn't look very willing," Wanda muttered, remembering the spell's requirement for consent. Even if the creature's intelligence was low, it still had a basic survival instinct. "And it's ugly. Your golems are much cuter, especially the one with the big round stone head."
"That's because you haven't seen my earlier work. Elemental-flesh homunculi—way more disgusting than this guy." Solomon rolled his eyes. "Magic is gross. That's the price of working with this universe's energies. It's nearly impossible to change. The spells I'm teaching you are already cleaned up. And anyway, I don't think this thing has any objections."
He glanced at the creature, which was desperately trying to figure out how to escape. Its sickly, frantic eyes were now focused and alert. It knew what Solomon was. It sensed the apex predator. It wanted to flee, but even the idea of running might provoke him, so it froze in place—paralyzed by instinctual terror.
"I'm not going to use this spell yet, teacher." Wanda hesitated, then shook her head. "I don't really need an aetheric hunter." She smiled. "Let's move on to the next step. I'm more curious about what you want to show me in the deep aether. You still haven't explained what a planar fragment is!"
The red-haired witch had completely shaken off her nerves. She even began circling the disgusting extradimensional bacterium with interest. If Solomon hadn't stopped her, she might have tried prying its maw open just to see what was inside.
"We're only going to look. No diving too deep. There might be dangerous things out there."
"But you wouldn't let me get hurt, would you?" she asked sweetly.
Solomon didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he smiled.
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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