Chapter 426: All of This!

Every mage is a master of bargaining, delaying, and renegotiating. Demons' temptations are often devoured whole by clever mages, who then toss back the baited hooks. Yet, not every deal goes smoothly, and Solomon's latest transaction was a prime example of this delicate game. Faced with the inscrutable Yog-Sothoth, a being who refused to offer "compressed files" of knowledge, Solomon had wisely enlisted Agamotto as a safeguard. Agamotto's insatiable curiosity for interdimensional knowledge made him the perfect counterbalance to this dark entity.

However, Solomon had overestimated his ability to endure such a transaction without activating his "Stigmata" — a hidden power linked to his divine potential. When he had previously confronted ancient beings of unfathomable age, it had only been through sheer will. But this time, under the crushing weight of overwhelming knowledge, he was forced to unlock the Stigmata to elevate himself to a higher state of awareness.

His consciousness ascended from the Material Plane to the Plane of Formation, and from there, to the Plane of Creation.

Suddenly, the dim stone chamber faded from his vision. What he now saw was beyond the comprehension of ordinary beings—an endless array of interwoven, chaotic realms. He gazed upon the very fabric of spirits, souls, and light, which were orderly projected across the Material Plane. His presence became awe-inspiring, transcendent, and filled with divine grace. Just standing near him was enough to understand his identity, his mission, and the grandeur of the destiny he carried.

In that unspeakable radiance, Maya Hansen witnessed everything.

She saw humanity's grand destiny, a purpose that spanned the entire galaxy. It was a burden so heavy it could only end when all the stars burned out and humanity stood at the apex of creation, gazing upon the cosmos from a mighty tower of civilization. He would lead divine warriors across worlds, hells, and the infinite depths of the Abyss, bringing both death and glory to countless beings.

But this revelation lasted only a brief moment.

The transaction concluded. Yog-Sothoth claimed what it had always owned, in the past, present, and future. Agamotto too acquired fragments of the knowledge Solomon had shared. Slowly, Solomon's will, though blurred and strained, remained resolute as he gradually closed the Stigmata.

Finally, he exhaled deeply, eyes shut tight, as the torrent of new knowledge assailed him.

The knowledge granted to him was akin to the dark techniques once employed by the Celestials during their genetic experimentation on early humans. It was a form of life manipulation on a cosmic scale. Now armed with this understanding, Solomon could emulate—if not surpass—the Celestials. He could achieve this through both science and magic.

The secrets of genetic manipulation, the mathematical elegance embedded deep within human DNA, unfurled before his mind like a blooming rose. No biological mystery remained hidden from him. He saw the sacred double helix in all its intricate glory—its complex base pair sequences hiding elegant geometrical puzzles and patterns of human learning and intelligence.

It was a staggering, incomprehensible flood of information.

Information has weight, and this weight—transmuted into pure data—was hurled into Solomon's mind by the All-in-One, despite Agamotto's efforts to act as a filter. Yet, remarkably, Solomon endured it.

As the surreal glowing spheres and golden, one-eyed apparitions faded, the radiant golden aura enveloping Solomon gradually dissipated. Maya Hansen cautiously approached, witnessing his pale, sweat-drenched face. Though the light had vanished, his eyes remained closed, and he panted heavily, his chest heaving for air.

Suddenly, a surge of thick, dark blood gushed from his nose. Solomon collapsed to his knees, violently retching clots of blackened, viscous fluid. His body convulsed uncontrollably as he coughed and gasped, choking on the mixture of blood and bile. Tears streamed from his eyes, a reflex from the strain on his body. Yet, amidst this horrifying scene, he laughed—loudly and maniacally.

Even as his blood-filled lungs seemed ready to ignite and his spasms wracked him with agony, Solomon laughed like a madman. Each cough echoed like a death rattle, yet he continued to laugh as though he had triumphed beyond measure.

He had won! The deal was worth it!

Minutes later, Solomon finally straightened his back, sitting amidst a pool of vomit and blood. He ignored how his expensive suit was ruined, clinging to the remnants of his composure. The spasms subsided, and his laughter faded. His face, smeared with dark, congealed blood, made him look like a demon risen from a sea of gore.

Maya Hansen hesitated as she stared into his eyes, expecting madness. But what she saw instead shocked her—his gaze was clear, serene even. His damp eyes carried an unsettling beauty, a vision that defied all expectations.

"Listen to me, Maya," Solomon spoke gently, his voice devoid of the otherworldly chorus that had filled the chamber earlier. He called her name with warmth, though it only heightened her unease. Something about him had changed, something she couldn't quite define. Yet as his smile slowly returned, it seemed as if he was regaining his humanity bit by bit—like a snail tentatively emerging after a summer rain.

"Are you listening, Maya?" Solomon tilted his head, speaking in an oddly playful tone. He seemed unnervingly unaffected by the ordeal, though the blood pooling beneath him and his trembling hands told another story. Were it not for these grotesque signs, his charisma might have charmed any onlooker.

"What… was that?" Maya Hansen demanded, her voice trembling with fear and awe. "You have to tell me the truth. What just happened?" She steeled herself, using the sternest tone she could muster.

"Gods, Maya," Solomon answered bluntly. He recounted the deal he had struck, including the price he paid. "It's nothing to worry about. Every mage faces this moment eventually—trading away either their sanity or their body for power. I secured the knowledge and technology we need for our work. In exchange, I gave up something that all my fates had already predetermined."

"You don't trust me," Maya retorted, her voice bitter. "You didn't believe I could handle it."

"It's not that," Solomon shook his head. "I had no choice. Humanity's current science can't achieve what I need. I had to rely on the dark gods. Only those who exist as unthinking, natural forces possess the knowledge I sought. I'll organize and filter that knowledge for you. You won't have to suffer the consequences—I've already paid the price you could never bear."

Maya felt suffocated by his words. "Was it really necessary to go this far?" she whispered, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the dried blood from his face. The cloth quickly became soaked with crimson, but she continued scrubbing furiously, as if determined to erase every stain. "How much more are you going to sacrifice, Solomon?"

"All of it," he replied calmly.

"Is it worth it?" she asked softly.

"We both know the answer, Maya. It's my mission. My purpose."

Far away, the Sorcerer Supreme sighed, his gaze shifting across countless planes of existence. In the distant outer dimensions, Dormammu stirred restlessly. A malevolent cosmic force from the future awakened, while an ancient shadow buried deep underground found its mortal vessel. Elsewhere, a pure-hearted witch of darkness approached Camelot, the Lords of Hell denied the fabric of reality, and angels with flaming swords prepared to descend upon the Material Plane. Even the great serpent of the sea twisted and coiled beneath the Earth, leaving behind a crown that signaled its reign.

The universe was on the brink of unprecedented conflict, and Solomon was destined to be part of its defense.

In comparison, a witch seeking resurrection seemed like a trivial concern.

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