Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 133 Vision and Salvation (First Update!)

In a daze, Salomon saw a strange pedestal upon which Randolph Carter sat. Behind him was a chaos interwoven with countless images. Randolph Carter had become some kind of amorphous being—no, it, and not even that—it was Him. Behind Him, behind the door that held everything, lay a vast array of possibilities that transcended mere imagination and mathematical logic. Salomon felt that behind that ultimate door lay all the answers.

But Randolph Carter blocked his view.

"It's not time yet." A voice, booming like thunder, resounded from an unknown source, carrying astonishing power and melody. Incomprehensible entities flickered in sync with this melody. It seemed to be telling Salomon how naive and narrow-minded his perception of the three-dimensional world was, revealing only glimpses of its full potential. This unparalleled and terrifying miracle filled Salomon with uncontrollable dread. Those illusions he had once dreamt of, those fleeting glimpses he had dismissed as absurd and laughable, reappeared as if in reality. Salomon felt himself gripped tightly by a vortex of fear. He begged to know more, but the being refused. Because it wasn't time yet. He had to repay his debts first. Only after his debts were repaid could his weakened mind be destroyed, and only then could he pierce the veil and know the secret from beginning to end—that would be his reward.

"You can use this to pay off your debts," Randolph Carter said, sitting on the hexagonal throne. "Of all the possibilities, this is the only chance."

When Salomon regained consciousness, the entrance hall was quiet again. Randolph Carter was gone, the frenzied crowd outside was gone, Titusa wasn't there, Abigail wasn't there, Coulson wasn't there either. Only Natasha stood quietly to one side; she was all alone. "You've been standing here for a long time," she said. "We don't know what happened to you. We only saw Randolph Carter say one thing to you, and you became like this. What did he say?"

The sorcerer closed his eyes tightly, clutching his forehead. His head throbbed with pain; even with his eyes closed, his retina flashed with iridescent colors, like the vast, boundless starry sky and incredibly hot gaseous creatures he saw, and the aurora-like thoughts within the gaseous brain deeply imprinted with nebulae. Besides this, he heard the constant sound of flowing water, and from the unfathomable depths of darkness, he heard a sharp, snickering voice. He knew what he saw and heard was abnormal, but he couldn't utter the incantation to use Hogos's power to protect his mind, because his soul was filled with too much, and his stigmata were involuntarily activated, further muddling his already chaotic thoughts.

He knew Randolph Carter's purpose, what Randolph Carter wanted him to do, but he couldn't be sure if the goals of those terrifying beings aligned with his. Finally, the red shroud of shackles worked its magic; Salomon struggled to open his mouth, feeling as if his jaw hadn't moved for centuries. "No, it's nothing." The arcane mage, having regained his sanity, redefined himself, rediscovering his original purpose. He uttered a rough, parched sound from his dry throat, "Where is Coulson? What happened afterward?"

"The residents seem to believe that the deaths of the Williams couple were also caused by Titusa's curse," Natasha scoffed. "They arrested her, and Governor Sir William Phipps sent a judge named Matthew Hopkins to preside over the witchcraft case here. Coulson went to the church with the residents; he wants to follow up on this matter. As for you, I think you need rest now, but not here. Randolph Carter is becoming increasingly suspicious. Let's go to the inn; I'll have someone inform Coulson."

In truth, Salomon hadn't absorbed much of Natasha's words, as a vague sense of dread still lingered in his mind. If it weren't for the mental fortitude he'd cultivated against Dormammu and the protection of the Shroud of Resurrection, he would have long since gone mad. He closed his eyes slightly, letting Natasha help him towards the town's inn. He now had a new understanding of everything he saw—the mud and animal dung beneath his feet, the stars high in the night sky—he could hear their whispers, accompanied by a nameless fear. This wasn't normal. Salomon needed to calm his soul before casting spells, but fortunately, he was experienced in such matters; the Shroud of Resurrection had already tempered his soul. He simply needed rest.

When Coulson returned to the hotel, he saw Salomon lying on the bed with his eyes closed, Natasha wrapped him tightly in the blankets. "What happened to him?" Agent Coulson asked in surprise, pointing at Salomon, but Natasha couldn't answer the question either. In any case, getting away from Randolph Carter was the only thing Natasha could do in that situation.

“Alright,” Coulson nodded, though he didn’t understand anything. “They’ve put Titus in jail. I’ve been there; the conditions are terrible. Titus might even be whipped, because the judge is Matthew Hopkins, the first witch hunt in British history, a notorious executioner who hunts down suspected witches. The punishment may have already begun, sir. I need you to come with me into the jail, rescue Titus, and put her here.”

"Are you serious, Coulson?" Natasha asked. "You know this is just another repeat of the same old thing."

"Yes, I know." Agent Coulson's expression was very serious. "I know that what I'm doing may not change anything, but I will still do it."

"Okay." Salomon, lying on the bed, barely opened his eyes. He pulled one hand out from under the covers and touched the dimensional bag on the bedside table. "Natasha, open it and take out the glass bottles containing the red and golden potions."

"What are these things?" Natasha asked as she rummaged through the potions. "Are they some kind of wizard's potions?"

"You're right," the sorcerer replied weakly. "The red ones are potions for minor injuries, and the golden ones are minor healing potions. I think these should be enough to heal Tithuba."

"Why?" Coulson asked. "Why did you...?"

"Why change your mind, right?" Salomon closed his eyes again. "This is all just a game played by certain beings. What we need to do is continue this game, give those great beings a spectacular performance. The villains have already appeared on the stage, so it's time for us, the side of justice, to take the stage as well."

Agent Coulson couldn't understand Salomon's strange ramblings. He raised an eyebrow at Natasha, who tilted her head, indicating she couldn't explain it either. "Anyway," Coulson sighed, "thank you, Salomon."

"Alright, don't disturb my rest." Salomon's voice gradually lowered, becoming almost inaudible. "I want..."

"Sweet dreams, Commander Natasha. We should get going."

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Security at Salem's prison was weak; Natasha and Coulson had broken into much more heavily guarded areas before, so this wasn't a major problem for them. For this operation, Natasha changed out of her local clothing, revealing her tight-fitting combat suit. Coulson insisted on not killing anyone, only strangling and knocking out the guards. The prisoners who wouldn't sleep and tried to shout were stunned by Natasha with an electric shock. When they found Titusa, the black girl was still wearing her servant's clothes, but they were ripped to shreds from the whipping. Thick, reddish-black blood seeped from beneath her skin, sticking fabric scraps to her body. Swarms of flies clung to her wounds, greedily sucking away Titusa's bodily fluids and warmth. The poor girl lay on the thin straw, her eyes closed, emitting faint moans.

The damp, cold floor continued to rob her of what little warmth she had left, and an omnipresent stench permeated the entire cell. Coulson couldn't help but frown, while Natasha remained silent, for she had seen far worse places.

Natasha pried open the prison door, and Coulson immediately slipped inside. After crushing a emaciated rat that was trying to tear at Tituba's flesh, he quickly knelt down and stroked the girl's forehead. "She has a fever, but she's not in immediate danger," Agent Coulson whispered, trying to avoid echoing through the stone corridor. "We don't have antibiotics... we can only treat her according to Salomon's instructions, but we need to get her to the hotel first."

"I've been prepared all along." Natasha took a large piece of felt from behind her and placed it in Coulson's arms. Then she picked up Titusa and wrapped her in the felt from Coulson's arms. "You take her, I'll lead the way."

"Alright. Without intelligence support, this is the only traditional method we can use." Coulson made a face, pleased that he had rescued an innocent person. "I believe you can do it, sir. A doglock flintlock is nothing to you. But there's another matter that requires your help."

"What?"

"Take care of her." Coulson gestured with his chin towards the girl in his arms. "I can't clean all her wounds, can I?"

"You all need my care," Natasha sighed. "Well, that's how it is. I'll take care of her tonight, at least so she won't wake up screaming the next morning."

Salomon slept alone tonight. In his noisy, swirling dream, he saw a city bathed in the glow of the setting sun, with high walls, temples, colonnades, and arched bridges built of textured marble, all shimmering with a magnificent and enchanting light. He remembered seeing a fountain with a silver base spouting water in a wide square and fragrant garden, radiating iridescent light. Besides this, there were graceful trees, flowerbeds bursting with blossoms, and ivory statues. Then, his vision moved uncontrollably, swiftly across seven hundred steps and a magical, glowing forest, past the abode of the gods in the cold wasteland, finally settling on an onyx castle more magnificent than any castle in the world.

There he heard the same mocking laughter as he had heard in the entrance hall of Randolph Carter's house.

Please vote!! The mastermind behind it all has appeared!!

(End of this chapter)