Week 3 | Day 18 — Pentagon, Washington, D.C.
Over the past week, intelligence agencies worldwide had quietly mobilized alongside the Justice League, monitoring the escalating oceanic anomalies with mounting concern. While the public accepted the official explanation of unusual tectonic activity, the scientific community knew the truth—these events were anything but natural.
Then everything escalated.
Two days ago, LexCorp's newly launched Planet Watch satellite detected massive disturbances in the Indian and Pacific oceans. Both the DOD and Justice League responded immediately. The League gained crucial insight into Orm's plan but withheld their findings—even from the DOD—to prevent mass panic.
Since then, Batman and his Wayne Tech team had been running continuous tests on a modified deep-sea vessel, ensuring it could withstand the crushing pressures of the Unspoken Waters.
This morning, everything changed.
At 0600 hours, after two days of silence, Planet Watch detected another massive anomaly off the coast of Guyana and Suriname. Three hours later, at 0900 hours, a second strike hit near Gabon and São Tomé off the African coast.
This time, the attacks had reached land.
The satellite's AI flagged and routed the data within twenty minutes. By then, the damage was catastrophic. Remote coastal villages reported mass casualties—entire communities found unconscious and unresponsive, as though their very souls had been torn away.
Within hours, the Secretary of Defense convened an emergency meeting at the Pentagon in a specially designed conference room—a mix of analog and isolated systems, disconnected from all networks to thwart surveillance by Orach's AI.
The air hummed with tension. Generals Swanwick and Lane sat across from a delegation of joint chiefs, intelligence officers, and Amanda Waller.
The Secretary pulled up the Atlantic display. Two crimson zones pulsed on opposite shores. "As of 0600 hours, we have confirmation of two simultaneous coastal attacks. Both lethal."
A general leaned forward. "Casualties?"
Lane's jaw tightened. "Preliminary reports show over three hundred affected in Guyana and Suriname. Another two hundred in Gabon. Identical symptoms—catatonic, no brain activity, yet still breathing. It's as if their souls were ripped from their bodies."
Silence fell over the room like a shroud.
Waller broke it first. "We knew these were tests. But the pattern's deliberate now. Whoever's behind this is testing their weapon—and growing bolder with each strike."
Swanwick nodded grimly. "We've tracked these disturbances since they began. Until now, casualties were limited to marine life. This is the first confirmed attack on human populations."
"Which means," Waller continued, her voice cold and measured, "they're confident. They're escalating regardless of potential retaliation."
The Secretary's gaze swept the table. "Do we have any leads on the mechanism? How is this being executed?"
A DARPA scientist cleared his throat. "Sir, we've confirmed it's sound-based, but beyond that, we're operating blind. The energy signature doesn't match anything in our database—it violates every principle of acoustic physics we understand."
Lane leaned forward. "Explain."
"Our sonar arrays detect nothing, sir. No acoustic markers. No pressure waves. No cavitation. None of the telltale signatures a conventional sonic weapon would produce. This weapon operates on a frequency entirely outside our detection range." He paused. "We can measure water displacement after the fact, but we cannot trace the source or determine how the energy propagates."
The scientist pulled up a waveform diagram. "Planet Watch has given us something—thermal and electromagnetic anomalies at the strike locations, but only post-impact. We've been using those readings to approximate origin points, but without understanding the transmission mechanism, it's essentially educated guesswork."
He gestured at the display. "Our working theory places the weapon deep underwater—extremely deep. But without understanding how the acoustic energy propagates, we can't triangulate back to a common source." His expression darkened. "There's another problem. Any power source capable of generating this magnitude of energy should produce detectable radiation signatures—like thermal output and electromagnetic emissions. Our systems should flag it. Planet Watch should flag it. But we're detecting nothing except the attacks themselves."
"There's also a twenty-minute processing lag," he added grimly. "From the moment an attack occurs to when our systems register it. That delay is almost certainly tied to the fundamental problem—we don't understand the weapon's operating principle or how to detect its true origin."
Lane slammed his fist on the table. "Not good enough. I want every available satellite repositioned over the Atlantic and Pacific. Deploy deep-sea drones to those coordinates immediately. I want answers—now."
Waller stood, adjusting her tablet. She turned to Swanwick. "General, have you heard back from the Justice League? They investigated this with Atlantis, didn't they?"
All eyes shifted to Swanwick.
"We know they coordinated with Atlantis," Swanwick replied calmly. "We're awaiting their findings. They're likely facing the same challenges we are—understanding the mechanism."
Waller's eyes narrowed. "Strange. Batman—one of the world's greatest minds. Cyborg—half-machine with advanced alien technology. Aliens from civilizations supposedly millennia beyond our own. Three ex-Green Lanterns who once patrolled entire sectors of the universe. All those resources, and they can't figure it out?"
Swanwick's expression grew guarded. "What are you implying, Amanda?"
"Nothing much," she said, meeting his gaze. "Just that you've given them free rein and perhaps more trust than warranted. Trust that's allowed them to operate independently—and keep secrets from us."
A cold weight settled in Swanwick's gut. "Get to the point."
"Very well." Waller tapped her tablet. Images materialized on the main monitor—two figures wreathed in yellow energy, carrying a massive structure covered in intricate engravings.
"What is that?" the Secretary muttered.
Swanwick and Lane both tensed, their expressions carefully neutral.
"This was captured two days ago," Waller said coldly. "Those are Justice League members Hal Jordan and Laira Omoto, transporting something large with ancient Japanese engravings. The images aren't crystal clear, but my analysts extrapolated from the partials and identified the language. These so-called heroes found this during their ocean floor investigation and moved it under the radar. They were so careful, these are the only images we captured." She paused deliberately. "So, General—did they lie to you, or did you lie for them?"
"What the hell is this, Swanwick?" a general barked. "You're responsible for those freaks!"
"Did you know about this?" another demanded. "Did you withhold this from us?"
Voices erupted around the table.
"Enough!" The Secretary's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. Silence fell instantly. "Gentlemen, ladies. Remember who you're questioning. These two have led Earth's defense. They've fought on the front lines and stood face-to-face with beings from the Higher Realms."
The reminder landed with weight. While everyone present had fought during the invasions—Kryptonian, Thanagarian, Darkseid's forces—only Swanwick and Lane had coordinated directly with the Justice League and maintained their composure before Higher Realm beings. Whatever resentment existed, there remained grudging respect beneath.
"General Swanwick, you have the floor."
"Thank you, Mr. Secretary." Swanwick nodded, then met Waller's gaze calmly. "You're right about one thing—neither Lane nor I knew about this. But," he raised a hand as Waller opened her mouth, "I don't see it as betrayal or cause for alarm. You said it yourself—our brightest minds can't understand this weapon. If they kept this from us, it means they haven't deciphered it either."
Waller's eyes flashed. "How can you place such faith in these aliens and vigilantes?"
"Because they've earned it, Amanda. Time and again, they've proven themselves Earth's champions." Swanwick's voice remained steady. "If they haven't briefed us yet, I trust they will once they've completed their investigation. They have unique resources and capabilities." His eyes narrowed. "Now, the real question—how did you obtain these images? They clearly didn't come from our satellites or networks. LexCorp, I assume? After all, your CADMUS group benefited from relations with LexCorp before it was disbanded, didn't it? Did they repurpose their new satellite to surveil the people of Earth? And why reveal this now, two days later?"
Waller's expression remained impassive. "LexCorp's satellite is a commercial venture, General. You were present when the concept was introduced. Like our DOD's early detection system for space-related threats, it was designed as the first of the proposed satellites to launch—an early warning system for terrestrial threats, allowing us and other nations, under UN charter, to act proactively in defending our world. Given the current crisis, they offered their imaging capabilities to assist national security, and I accepted. As for the delay—my analysts needed time to process and verify their findings before presenting them here."
"Convenient," Swanwick said coldly. "So LexCorp is now monitoring Justice League operations without oversight? Without congressional approval? That's not assistance, Amanda—that's surveillance of Earth's primary defense force."
The Secretary raised a hand. "Both of you, stand down. General Swanwick, I understand your concerns about LexCorp's involvement, but we have a more immediate crisis." He turned to Waller. "Amanda, what exactly are you proposing?"
Waller stepped forward, her voice measured. "I'm not suggesting we arrest the League or declare them hostile. I'm suggesting we demand transparency. If they've recovered an artifact connected to these attacks, we have a right to know what it is and what they're doing with it. This isn't about trust—it's about accountability."
"Accountability," Swanwick repeated, his tone turned solemn. "The same accountability you demonstrated when CADMUS's actions attracted Mr. Orach's attention? Believe me, Waller, earning the ire of a Higher Realm being leads to a fate worse than death. I don't say those words lightly. I've seen them in action up close. So the last person I want lecturing about accountability is someone who nearly got us all annihilated." He leaned forward. "In fact, since you're advocating transparency, why don't you release those classified files on CADMUS's projects? I'd be very interested to know what exactly Mr. Orach discovered that prompted him to publicly threaten your group with destruction. Understanding which lines not to cross would be invaluable." Swanwick's tone turned colder. "Listen well, Amanda Waller. The League has earned the benefit of the doubt. You have not."
The room fell deathly silent. Several officers shifted uncomfortably.
Waller's jaw tightened, but she didn't take the bait. "My past mistakes don't change the present situation. We have over five hundred civilians dead or catatonic. We have a weapon we can't detect or comprehend. And we have supposed allies keeping secrets that may be critical to our survival."
"Then we ask them," Lane interjected, his voice cutting through the tension. "Directly. General Swanwick and I will contact the League immediately and request a full briefing on their findings. If they're withholding information, we'll know. But we do this properly—through established channels, not through surveillance and ambush tactics."
The Secretary nodded. "Agreed. Generals, you have six hours to get answers from the Justice League. If they refuse to cooperate, we'll reconvene to discuss next steps."
He turned to Waller. "Amanda, in the meantime, your team has already begun analyzing the script on that artifact. Continue pursuing the Japanese angle—coordinate with Japanese authorities if necessary. I trust the Justice League won't betray us, but I need to be able to give the president concrete answers."
His expression hardened. "I also want a comprehensive report on LexCorp's satellite capabilities. We authorized their launch for early detection of terrestrial threats—not domestic surveillance. If they're monitoring American citizens, meta-human or otherwise, without proper oversight, I need to know the full scope of that system's capabilities before we decide how to proceed."
Waller's eyes flashed, but she nodded curtly. "Understood, sir."
"One more thing," the Secretary added, his gaze sweeping the room. "This discussion remains classified. I won't tolerate any leaks and rumors. If word spreads that we're possibly at odds with the Justice League, it will create exactly the chaos our enemies want. Are we clear?"
A chorus of affirmatives echoed through the room.
As the meeting adjourned, Swanwick and Lane exchanged a knowing look. They both understood what came next—a very difficult conversation with the League.
Waller gathered her tablet and files, her expression unreadable. As she passed Swanwick, she paused. "I hope your faith is justified, General. For all our sakes."
"So do I," Swanwick replied quietly. "But I'd rather trust those who've bled for this planet than those who profit from its fears."
Waller said nothing. She simply walked out, her heels clicking against the polished floor.
Lane waited until she was gone. "She's still at it, isn't she? Still building a case against the meta-humans and the League. Even if they cooperate fully, she'll twist it into evidence they can't be trusted."
"I know," Swanwick said grimly. "Which is why we need to get ahead of this. Contact Batman. Tell him we need everything—what they found, what it means, and what they're planning. No more secrets."
"And if they refuse?"
Swanwick's expression hardened. "Then Waller wins. And we'll have a far bigger problem than whatever's brewing in the oceans."
T - 48Hrs - Evening—Underwater
After his tense conversation with Generals Swanwick and Lane, Batman made his decision. The casualties were mounting, and now they included human lives. The League could no longer operate in the shadows. He'd shared a brief account of their findings with the generals while deliberately withholding the full details of their next mission.
What troubled him more was Swanwick's revelation: LexCorp's Planet Watch satellite had captured Hal and Laira transporting the monolith. Batman had known about the satellite's recent deployment and taken precautions with the mission in mind. For the most part, their actions had stayed under the radar—but the surveillance proved far more sophisticated than he'd anticipated. He'd underestimated LexCorp's technology.
"I appreciate you informing me of this," Batman had told Swanwick. "Moving forward, we'll be more careful. If they're tracking us, we can't risk exposed movements."
"Understood," Swanwick replied, his expression grave. "Lane and I will keep your mission to the Unspoken Waters between us. We'll inform the Secretary of the other details and await your return."
"Appreciated, Generals."
Now, hours later, Batman stood on the monitoring deck of their modified vessel alongside Aquaman, Cheetah, John Constantine, and Hal Jordan. They'd departed from the Antarctic lab hours ago, following Constantine's coordinates toward the optimal entry point.
The ocean stretched before them—dark, endless, and unforgiving. The vessel's engines hummed steadily as they descended into the abyss.
"How much farther?" Cheetah asked, breaking the silence.
Aquaman checked the navigation display. "Two hours at this speed. Constantine's coordinates put us in one of the deepest trenches in this region."
"You know," Hal said quietly, staring out at the darkness, "we might be the first humans to ever go this deep."
Constantine let out a low whistle. "Would be a grand sight under different circumstances, mate."
"Perfect for someone who doesn't want to be found," Hal muttered, glancing at the control screens. The pressure readings climbed steadily. He turned to Batman. "You're certain this vessel can handle it?"
Batman's eyes narrowed. "It'll hold."
"Come on, Hal." Aquaman gave him a sidelong glance before turning to Batman. "I trust you."
"I trust him too," Hal said quickly. "But this thing is supposed to travel through not just the physical ocean but the metaphysical realm as well."
"Oh, so it's me you don't trust, mate?" Constantine asked.
"Constantine, no offense, but I trust the Bat with my life. We've fought side by side. But you? Other than the Thanagarian Invasion, I haven't seen you much in action. And let's not forget—I'm still not convinced magic even exists. It's probably some form of advanced science, some energy you sorcerers are tapping into. And right now, we're cleaning up your mess."
"Oi, grow up, mate. I've had it up to here with you blaming me," John shot back. "You think you're the only one who isn't my biggest fan? Get in line. And let me tell you, I ain't exactly fond of you space cops either. You think I want to be here? I'd rather be back home with a cold glass of whiskey in one hand, the other hand getting shagged by my—"
CLAP
A sharp clap cut through the tension. All eyes except Batman's turned toward the source—Cheetah, whose expression had gone ice-cold.
"Hal," she said evenly, "I thought we were past this. There were other circumstances that led to the loss of those artifacts from Constantine's care. Do you really think this behavior suits a veteran Leaguer?" She shifted her gaze to John. "And you—think before you speak. This is a mission." She gestured to their specialized suits. "Finish that sentence, John, and I swear Zatanna will turn you into the rabbit for her next magic show."
Both men fell silent, their faces paling. This was an official mission—every word recorded in the mission logs. John could already imagine Zatanna's fury when she heard what he'd almost said about their private life in front of their colleagues. Hal knew Laira wouldn't let him off easy either.
Cheetah shook her head and turned back to the viewport. The two men settled into uncomfortable silence.
Aquaman caught the exchange from the corner of his eye and blinked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Only someone like her could match the Bat," he thought to himself.
The vessel shuddered as they descended past another pressure threshold. Outside, the water had turned pitch black, illuminated only by the ship's external lights cutting through the void.
"So far so good," Hal muttered.
"Stay sharp," Batman said. "We don't know what we're walking into. Constantine, you're our eyes for anything supernatural. Hal, keep a construct ready for rapid extraction if needed. Aquaman, guide us once we reach the coordinates."
The vessel angled downward as they continued their descent. The lights caught something in the distance—a faint, phosphorescent glow emanating from deep within the trench below.
"We've reached the threshold," Constantine announced. He placed his hand on the Orichalcum construct mounted on the central pedestal and began chanting. The ship's hull glowed as magical energy rippled across its surface like living circuitry, channeling the stored energy. "It's now or never."
Batman nodded and adjusted the controls. The ship accelerated forward.
"Constantine, your spell better work," Hal said, tension creeping into his voice. "I don't want to end up like a fly on a windshield."
"Brother, make it work," Aquaman added, gripping his trident. "I've still got a lot left to do."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Constantine said dryly, though he grinned as they accelerated. "We're about to cross into the Unspoken Waters proper. Hold tight."
Batman moved to the forward viewport, his eyes fixed on the pulsing light enveloping the ship. "Take us in."
The vessel dove toward the glowing abyss. It shuddered violently as if striking an invisible barrier—then suddenly felt as though it pierced through a thin membrane. Section by section, the ship passed through, groaning under pressure unlike anything they'd experienced. Then, in an instant, the ship vanished from Earth's ocean.
The shaking stopped.
The vessel's lights flickered as the world outside transformed. The deep black of the physical ocean gave way to something else entirely—a realm where water and void seemed to merge into one. The pressure readings spiked wildly before stabilizing at impossible levels.
"We're through," Constantine announced, his voice strained. The Orichalcum coating now pulsed with a steady rhythm, like a living heartbeat. "Welcome to the Unspoken Waters." His tone grew serious. "Listen carefully—don't look directly at anything for too long. This place is the dumping ground of our multiverse. Anything that once existed may be buried here—dead or sleeping. Stick to the plan. And when we go out there, for God's sake, don't touch anything."
"It's peaceful," Cheetah said quietly, her enhanced senses on high alert. Despite the eerie calm, a strange unease settled deep in her gut the deeper they went. She drew on her Ki, letting it flow through her body to steady herself. "Yet hostile. Like it doesn't want us here."
Hal peered out the viewport. "Is it just me, or does the water look... wrong?"
"It's not water anymore," Aquaman said quietly. His natural connection to the ocean felt distant, distorted. He gripped his trident tighter, feeling the divine energy within pulse—almost like a warning to turn back. "We don't belong here."
"Technically, it's not entirely water," Constantine explained. "We're between realms now. Like I said, this is the dumping ground of the multiverse. According to ancient texts and legends, this place is where all dead sea gods rest. It's also where matter from dead universes drifts. A graveyard in every sense of the word. So yeah—Aquaman's right. The living don't belong here."
Without warning, the vessel lurched violently. It spun in a dizzying spiral, caught in unseen currents. Batman gripped the controls, fighting to stabilize their descent.
"Constantine! Make this stop!" Hal shouted as they tumbled through the metaphysical turbulence.
"I'm on it!" Constantine extended both hands, weaving intricate golden magic circles as he reinforced the protective spell. "Hold on!"
After what felt like an eternity, the spinning slowed. The vessel gradually righted itself, and the violent shaking subsided into a gentle drift.
"Everyone in one piece?" Constantine asked, his voice surprisingly calm despite the chaos.
"Define 'one piece,'" Hal muttered, his face slightly green. "Pretty sure my lunch is about to make a reappearance."
Cheetah stretched, already recovered as her Ki stabilized her body. "I'm fine." She moved quickly to Batman's side and placed a hand on his arm, channeling her Ki to steady him.
"I'm fine. Let's keep moving," Batman said, straightening in his chair. He reached out and gently clasped her hand, giving her a brief nod of acknowledgment. She nodded back and released him.
"I'm good too," Aquaman said, shaking off the disorientation. "That came out of nowhere."
"Let's never do that again," Hal said firmly.
"Come on, man. I thought you were a test pilot—a crazy one at that," Aquaman said, shooting him a look.
"Exactly," Hal replied solemnly. "That should tell you how bad it was if I'm saying we shouldn't do it again."
"Alright, enough." Batman's voice cut through the exchange. He engaged the thrusters, and they began navigating through the strange waters. The environment around them defied description—shadows moved independently in the darkness, and for long stretches, there was nothing but endless void.
"Seriously," Hal mumbled, staring out at the emptiness, "it's like we're drifting through empty space."
Each of them felt the wrongness of the Unspoken Waters in their own way—a primal instinct urging them to turn back.
"Multiple contacts on sensors," Batman announced, his eyes fixed on the display. Distant colors flickered across the screen—ethereal energy signatures suggesting vessels ahead.
Aquaman moved beside him, studying the readouts. His expression hardened. "Those energy signatures... they're modified, but I recognize the base frequency. It's definitely Atlantean." He met Batman's gaze. "We found them."
"I've already cross-referenced the frequency against our vessel's signature," Aquaman replied. "Ninety percent match. That has to be Orm."
Batman's jaw tightened. Without another word, he activated the console. "Switching to stealth mode." The ship's lights died instantly, plunging them into the eerie phosphorescent glow of the Unspoken Waters. He maneuvered them behind a massive crystallized formation.
"How many are there?" Cheetah asked, her body already tensing.
"Four vessels total ," Batman replied, analyzing the data. "Three escort battleships and one large warship."
"That warship—it has to be his flagship," Aquaman said, his grip tightening on his trident. "He's got an entire strike group."
"Hold on—there's more," Constantine said, leaning closer to the screen. He pointed as the sensors zoomed in. "Look at that. Soldiers. Dozens of them, maybe more."
"I hoped the reports were exaggerated," Aquaman muttered. "But he really did vanish with a loyalist army." He watched the figures moving across the screen. "They're loading the escort ships. It's like... they're preparing for war."
The team watched in tense silence as Orm's forces moved with military precision. Soldiers in advanced Atlantean armor transferred unmarked crates between vessels in coordinated waves.
"Those crates look like weapon caches," Hal said. "This is definitely war prep."
"Anyone else notice the layout?" Cheetah said, studying the formation. "This isn't a permanent installation. It's more like a staging area."
"Agreed," Batman said. "It's more like a shipyard and deployment site than a base. He's been here for months—we have no idea how extensively he's explored this realm or what infrastructure he's established. This could be one outpost among many."
"Then we end this now," Aquaman said.
"Hold on," Batman said, his voice cutting through the tension. "We can't just charge in blind. A direct assault would get us killed—and we'd learn nothing." He turned to Aquaman. "Our mission is intelligence gathering first. We need to understand what Orm is planning and what his weapon is actually capable of. Only if we get a clear opportunity to stop him completely do we engage. Not before."
Aquaman grumbled, "Tch. Fine."
"So we use hit-and-run tactics?" Cheetah asked. "One team creates a distraction while a smaller group slips inside?"
Batman nodded. "We split up. Aquaman, Hal—you're the distraction. Make them think they're under attack by native creatures from this realm. Even if Orm has explored extensively, he can't have mapped everything. Constantine will mask you with illusion magic to keep our identities hidden."
"And while we're causing chaos?" Hal asked.
"Constantine and I board the flagship," Batman said, gesturing at the massive warship. "Our goal will be to locate Orm's command center, access their systems, and sabotage the operation from within. If we can compromise their network, we might disable the entire fleet."
"And me?" Cheetah asked.
"You stay with the ship. Keep the engines ready for immediate extraction," Batman said. "You're also our contingency—if either team runs into trouble, you're our ace in the hole."
Cheetah hesitated, clearly wanting to stay at Bruce's side. But she understood. "All right."
"It's risky," Aquaman said, "but it's our best option. When do we move?"
"Five minutes," Hal said, his ring flaring briefly. "Then we make some noise."
Batman turned to Constantine. "Any issues with the plan? Can you maintain cloaking enchantments for all of us during the infiltration? Will your magic work reliably in this environment?"
"It's actually more responsive here than Earth-side," Constantine said. "The metaphysical properties of this realm make magical energy more... fluid. Keeping us invisible won't strain me."
"But?" Batman prompted, reading his hesitation.
Constantine's expression darkened. "But combat magic becomes unpredictable. The same properties that ease simple spells destabilize complex ones. Any significant offensive magic could backfire catastrophically—potentially harming us more than them."
"This is reconnaissance, not a frontal assault," Batman said, activating a secure comm channel. "Everyone stays in constant contact. If either team encounters trouble, signal immediately."
Aquaman approached the airlock, extending his senses beyond the hull. The water felt alien—thick with strange energy—yet still familiar enough. "I can work with this," he muttered before turning to Hal. "You ready?"
"As I'll ever be," Hal said, his ring flaring with yellow light.
Each member made their final preparations, checking equipment and steeling themselves.
Aquaman and Hal moved to the airlock chamber.
The outer hatch cycled open. Aquaman and Hal vanished into the dark waters. Seconds later, Batman and Constantine exited through a maintenance port, swimming toward the looming shadow of Orm's flagship.
Cheetah settled into the pilot's seat, her enhanced vision tracking both teams on the tactical display. Her claws extended reflexively. "Good luck," she whispered into the silence.
Orm's Flagship
"Status report." Orm's voice cut through the command chamber as he sat upon his throne, one hand resting against his temple, the other gripping his trident.
His second-in-command—a veteran warrior named Vahn—stood at attention below. "My king, preparations are ninety-five percent complete. Final supply crates are being loaded. Energy matrix has reached eighty-eight percent saturation and holding steady." He snapped a crisp salute. "We await your command."
"Good. The moment loading is complete, initiate launch sequence." Orm's eyes gleamed with cold satisfaction. "Nothing will stop us now. Today, New Atlantis rises."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Without warning, the waters churned violently. The massive warship shuddered, deck plates groaning as everyone grabbed for stability.
"Report!" Orm's expression hardened.
"Your Majesty," an operator called out, "the Legate, Praetorian, Inquisitor, and Herald all report the same tremor. All vessels switching to battle stations and recalling personnel."
"Sire, sensors detecting erratic movement patterns ahead," another operator reported.
"Define erratic," Vahn snapped.
"Contacts keep appearing and disappearing—phasing in and out of detection range. Signature suggests... a displacement burst just hit us."
Vahn's eyes narrowed as he turned toward Orm. "My king... it could be one of those creatures."
Orm's expression darkened. His time in the Unspoken Waters had taught him harsh lessons. The realm's timeless nature could drive men mad, but worse were the nightmarish entities prowling its depths. In the early months, his forces suffered devastating casualties—forced to retreat more than once. Everything changed when he acquired soul energy and divine artifacts, including his enchanted trident. With these tools, he could finally repel the creatures and establish permanent outposts. Recent advances in soul-enhancement technology for his soldiers, along with upgraded ships, armor, and weapons, meant he no longer faced these threats alone.
He rose from his throne, gripping his trident. "If it's merely creatures, coordinate with the escort ships. Drive them off."
Another violent shudder rocked the vessel. An operator shouted, "Visual confirmation!"
On the main viewscreen, a massive horror emerged from the darkness. It resembled a gargantuan ribcage of some dead sea god, stitched together with writhing shadows and pulsing dark energy. The creature dragged itself through the water, its maw—a yawning void—open impossibly wide.
"A Marrow Dredge?" Vahn's voice held disbelief. "Why would one come here? They avoid soul energy concentrations..."
"Second contact!" another operator called. "The Inquisitor reports visual." The sensors shifted, revealing a needle-thin silhouette flickering around the escort vessel.
"That's a Statice Veil Stalker!" Vahn stepped back involuntarily. "Two apex predators attacking simultaneously? Impossible. Our energy signatures are cloaked by Orichalcum plating—they shouldn't detect us!"
Orm's eyes narrowed. Something felt wrong—the timing too convenient, the behavior too coordinated. But the immediate threat demanded action. "All ships, defensive formation Beta. Now!"
His command snapped everyone to focus. "Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Vahn, concentrate fire on the Marrow Dredge. It hungers for mass—it'll target our reactor cores. The Legate supports the Inquisitor against the Stalker. Tighten formation and get me the Inquisitor's captain."
"At once, Your Majesty," Vahn acknowledged, relaying orders fleet-wide.
Meanwhile, amid the chaos, Batman and Constantine slipped aboard the flagship, concealed among returning soldiers. Constantine's cloaking spell wrapped around them like a shroud, bending light and perception.
Once aboard, they separated from the soldiers and ducked into a dimly lit corridor.
"We're in," Batman said quietly into his comm. "Cheetah, confirm position."
"Confirmed," Cheetah's voice crackled back. "You're showing on sensors. The distraction's working—most attention is on Aquaman and Hal. Constantine... these creatures in your illusions are impressively detailed. Are they based on something real?"
"Based on descriptions I came across," Constantine replied. "The fact they're buying it means those nightmares actually exist down here."
"YOU WEREN'T SURE?!" Aquaman and Hal's voices erupted simultaneously.
"Relax, it worked, didn't it?" Constantine said defensively.
"Constantine, I swear when this is over—" Hal began.
"Enough," Batman cut in. "Stay focused. Radio silence unless it's an emergency. Batman out."
"Such children," Constantine muttered.
"Stay alert," Batman said, moving forward.
They advanced deeper into the ship, avoiding patrols of armored Atlantean soldiers. Batman's stealth training combined with Constantine's subtle illusion spells kept them hidden, though tension mounted with each passing moment.
As they ventured deeper, they heard approaching footsteps right around the corner. They quickly slipped inside a massive chamber and pressed into the shadows.
What they saw made Batman's blood run cold.
Row upon row of advanced weaponry lined the chamber—technology rivaling the Apokoliptian arsenal from Darkseid's invasion. In deeper sections, smaller versions of soul-draining monoliths sat mounted on weapon platforms, each pulsing with magical energy.
"Bloody hell," Constantine whispered, his voice barely audible. "This is an entire arsenal—and this is just one ship."
Batman moved without hesitation toward a nearby control panel. His fingers flew across the interface as he worked to breach the system's defenses. The firewalls were sophisticated—unlike anything he'd encountered before—but after several tense minutes, he broke through and began downloading critical data.
As files streamed across the display, his jaw tightened.
"Orm's preparing for total war," Batman said, his voice grim. He scrolled through weapons manifests and deployment schedules. "If even a fraction of this arsenal reaches the surface..."
"There'll be mass casualties," Constantine finished, his expression somber. "Hundreds of thousands dead. Maybe millions."
Batman's hand moved to his utility belt, withdrawing several compact explosive charges. He met Constantine's eyes. "We're shutting this down. Now."
Before they could move, a cold voice echoed through the chamber.
"I wondered what felt wrong about those attacks. It seems we have intruders."
Lights flooded the chamber. Constantine's illusion shattered like glass, revealing them surrounded by Atlantean soldiers, weapons trained from every angle.
Standing at the entrance in ornate armor was Orm, arms crossed, trident gleaming.
"I was expecting my half-breed brother." Orm's smile turned cold as he surveyed his captives. "Instead, surface dwellers managed to reach me. How... unexpected." He spread his arms in a mocking gesture of welcome. "Welcome aboard the Imperial Providence. I'm afraid your little mission ends here."
"Well," Constantine said. "This is a right bloody mess."
"Don't move!" a guard barked, aiming the back end of his spear at Constantine's chest.
Another tremor shook the ship as battle continued outside.
Orm glanced toward them thoughtfully, his expression narrowed with interest. "Let me guess—those monsters out there are your doing? Illusion magic, perhaps?" He paused, studying them. "Are they your comrades? Is my dear brother among them?"
Batman studied Orm carefully. The man before him was no longer just Arthur's ambitious half-brother from the intelligence reports. His physique had transformed—more defined, with sharpened features and an unmistakable aura of power. What struck Batman most was the energy radiating from him, disturbingly similar to Diana's and Cheetah's divine presence. 'He's different. Stronger. Could it be… he's using the souls to ascend to godhood?'
Constantine tried to deflect, meeting Orm's gaze. "What are you on about? Those are real monsters—"
Orm's expression hardened. He gave a slight nod to the guards. A guard swung his spear, striking Constantine's leg. Constantine dropped to his knees with a grunt.
"Do not insult my intelligence, surface dweller," Orm said quietly. "Your magical illusions may mimic this realm's creatures, but your ignorance betrayed you." He stepped closer. "When a Statice Veil Stalker phases, it causes Orichalcum hulls to flare white-hot. Bridge lights flash sickening yellow. Your illusions lack these... authentic touches."
Constantine's eyes widened in realization.
"Yes, it's finally settling in, isn't it?" Orm smiled slightly. "We've dealt with these creatures long enough to understand their nature intimately. You can disguise your comrades well enough, but you cannot replicate what you've never witnessed firsthand." His gaze moved deliberately between them, lingering on each face. "So I ask again—where is my coward brother hiding?"
"He's occupied," Batman said evenly, hands positioned near his utility belt. "Cleaning up the damage you've caused on Earth."
Orm's cold laugh echoed through the chamber. "Damage?" He met Batman's gaze with calculated interest. "I've researched you, Dark Knight. You're supposedly wiser than most surface champions. So use that wisdom and see what's really happening. What you call damage is necessary chaos before a new order rises. I'm building a world where Atlantis finally claims its rightful place."
"By harvesting souls?" Constantine scoffed. "Mate, you're just being a parasite. And an order built on sacrifices isn't worth a damn. You're delusional."
Orm's expression darkened. "You understand nothing. For centuries, the surface world poisoned our oceans. Your waste, your toxins—all dumped into our home. And what did Atlantis do? Nothing. We hid. We cowered." He slammed his trident against the deck. "No more. With the power I now command, I will cleanse the surface and reclaim what is rightfully ours."
"Power built on stolen lives isn't true power, Orm," Batman said, his voice steady. "I've stood face-to-face with beings who could unmake worlds—I know what real power looks like. Whatever you think you're becoming, whatever power you believe you possess, it doesn't even come close."
Orm's smile returned. "You think my plan so simple? Consuming souls is merely a means to an end. And you're referring to Orach, aren't you? The Higher Realm being?" He laughed. "Yes, I've read about him. You're right—compared to him, I'm insignificant. But do I really need to fear him? His actions made one thing abundantly clear. As long as his interests aren't threatened, he won't intervene. I'm free to pursue my ambitions." He paused. "And even if he did act... I've found a way to deal with him."
Batman recovered first, filing the information away for later and deciding to gather more intelligence. "An operation of this scale requires resources far beyond what Atlantis alone could provide," he said evenly. "Who's backing you?"
Orm raised an eyebrow, then chuckled. "Trying to extract intelligence, detective?" He stepped closer. "You're brave, I'll grant you that."
"So, who's backing you?" Batman asked unfazed.
"Why don't you deduce it yourself?" Orm asked with a meaningful smile. "Try to take a guess."
Batman's eyes narrowed. "The Shinto Pantheon."
Orm's smirk widened. "Impressive. Yes, I have dealings with the Shinto gods. Satisfied? But they're not alone. I've formed alliances with many entities across our universe."
"Why?" Batman pressed. "Why do all this? Arthur never wanted your throne. You were and remain king of Atlantis."
Orm's expression shifted. He chuckled lightly, then threw his head back in full laughter. When he lowered his gaze to meet Batman's, his eyes burned with cold fury. "I may sit on the throne, but the people made it abundantly clear who they truly wanted to rule. Do you know what it's like to feel like an impostor in your own birthright? To be king in name only?" His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "I don't need permission to claim what is mine. I'll take it with my own power and make every traitor pay. Together with my loyal soldiers, I'll forge the one true New Atlantis. And if wretched souls from the surface world must fuel that ascension, so be it. They should feel honored their essence serves a greater purpose—my purpose."
"You're devouring people," Constantine said flatly. "This is madness."
"Call it what you will," Orm said dismissively, turning away. "Guards, bind them. Take them to holding cells. They'll serve as excellent test subjects for the next phase."
As soldiers advanced, the entire ship suddenly lurched. Alarms blared throughout the vessel.
"Report!" Orm commanded.
An officer burst into the chamber, face pale. "My lord! The escort fleet is under attack! Something's emerged from the depths—something we've never encountered before!"
Minutes before — Outside the Imperial Providence
Hal Jordan gritted his teeth as energy blasts hammered his yellow construct shield. "We can't hold out much longer!" he shouted, pouring more power into his failing defenses.
Aquaman channeled the Trident's divine power, golden light flaring against the relentless barrage. "The suppression field is getting worse!" Even wielding one of Atlantis's most powerful artifacts—Atlan's trident—he struggled to channel its power through the oppressive environment.
"Tell me about it!" Hal banked hard, dodging incoming fire as his constructs flickered. "This place is draining everything I've got!"
Aquaman's monstrous form seemingly dissolved into silt, merging with the murky environment to slip beneath an escort ship. He reformed beneath the hull and drove upward with his full strength. The impact shuddered through the vessel—but the other ships converged immediately. Coordinated fire forced him back, concentrated blasts sending him tumbling through the water.
"Arthur!" Hal's yellow lantern energy, masked by Constantine's illusion, shot forward to intercept. One beast appeared to protect the other as a barrier materialized just ahead of Aquaman, absorbing the follow-up volley and giving him time to retreat.
Orm's forces moved with practiced precision, their formations tight and disciplined. They'd been training in the Unspoken Waters for months, adapting to conditions that crippled the enemies they now faced. The situation quickly devolved into a brutal war of attrition.
An Atlantean commander emerged from one of the ships, barking orders. His squad responded instantly, weapons glowing as they unleashed a concentrated barrage. Aquaman braced himself and channeled the trident's power. Golden light erupted around him in a protective sphere—but even that couldn't fully deflect the assault. The force drove him back several yards.
"We can't keep trading blows like this!" Aquaman called out, breathing hard. "Hal, we need—"
The Unspoken Waters suddenly churned. The oppressive stillness shattered as something massive stirred in the depths below. The slate-gray water began to glow with faint phosphorescent green light, pushing back the darkness.
"What the hell is that?" Hal shouted, his shield flickering.
Without warning, enormous tendrils erupted from the abyss. Translucent and emerald green, they were woven from pure life energy—Nature Ki. The Ghost Vines struck with terrifying precision, lashing through soldiers before coiling around two of Orm's escort ships and hurling them into each other with crushing force.
The formation shattered instantly. Vessels collided with each other, their crews thrown against bulkheads. Ships on the periphery scattered desperately, engines screaming as they tried to avoid being damaged in the chaos.
One escort vessel attempted to flee, engines roaring to full power. A massive tendril coiled around its hull like a serpent and squeezed. Metal groaned and buckled under the pressure, but the reinforced Orichalcum plating—infused with the remains of dead sea gods—held firm against the crushing force.
"Cheetah!" Aquaman exhaled in relief as he recognized the familiar energy signature cutting through the suppression field.
She rose from the depths, her suit glowing with golden-green radiance. Her eyes blazed gold, and beneath the suit, patches of her fur had taken on a distinctive greenish hue. After the Darkseid invasion, she'd thrown herself into Aurelia's training—not just for the Tournament of Power, but so she'd never feel that helpless again. So she could protect the people she cared about. The people she loved. She extended her hands, and the abyssal flora bent to her will.
"Sorry I'm late," she said, her voice coming clearly through the comms. "Took a while to convince this place to cooperate." She gestured toward the regrouping soldiers with a serious expression. "Now get clear—these bastards actually know what they're doing."
She thrust her hands forward. Phosphorescent Spores erupted from her aura in a shimmering cloud, spreading through the water like a living mist. The microscopic Ki-seeds latched onto Orm's soldiers, burrowing through gaps in their armor. Within moments, void-lilies bloomed across their equipment, their roots spreading like cracks through stone as they drained the divine energy sustaining the soldiers' enhancements.
Soldiers screamed as their augmented strength failed them, bodies suddenly feeling impossibly heavy. "Fall back! Fall back now!" their commander shouted, but Cheetah's assault had already broken their cohesion. The once-disciplined formation collapsed into panicked disarray.
Inside the Imperial Providence
Orm burst onto the command deck, his gaze snapping to the tactical display. The green energy signature was attacking his forces with alarming speed.
"Report!" he barked. "What is that thing?"
An officer's fingers flew across the console. "Unknown, my lord. Readings indicate both biological and divine properties. Our weapons are barely slowing it down, and its attacks are draining our soldiers' strength on contact."
Orm's grip tightened around his trident. He'd prepared for Aquaman, for the surface world's champions, even for divine intervention—but not this.
'What is that creature?' His mind raced through the energy readings. 'The signature feels divine, but unlike any god I've encountered. And in a realm that suppresses all power, how is it channeling divinity so freely?'
He shoved the questions aside. "All vessels, converge on that signature! Concentrated fire—I want it eliminated!"
As his fleet adjusted formation, a cold smile crossed his face.
As his fleet adjusted formation, a cold smile crossed his face. 'Perhaps this is fortunate. Better to face this unknown threat now, on my terms, than be caught off guard later.'
Behind him, Batman watched the guards surrounding them.
Their attention had shifted completely to the chaos outside.
The Atlantean restraints weren't built for someone with his training. Batman twisted his wrists at a precise angle, exploiting the binding's structural weakness. The cuffs snapped free. His elbow drove into the nearest guard's throat before the man could process what was happening. The soldier's eyes bulged, then he collapsed.
Batman's real armor—upgraded years ago to withstand Kryptonian-level threats—lay hidden beneath his normal suit, giving him the edge he needed. Enhanced or not, these soldiers couldn't match his refined combat technique.
Before the others could react, Batman crushed a smoke pellet against the deck.
Choking black smoke erupted through the deck.
Constantine, who had been watching and waiting, moved the moment he saw Batman act. "Velamentum Noctis!" Shadows burst from the corners, weaving through the smoke into an impenetrable shroud that even the enhanced Atlantean senses couldn't penetrate.
"This way!" Batman grabbed Constantine's arm, pulling him toward a corridor he'd memorized during their infiltration.
Energy blasts ripped through the smoke behind them. Alarms shrieked throughout the ship.
"Find them!" Orm's voice crackled over the comms, fury barely contained. He coughed, choking on the smoke. "I want them dead!"
As the environmental controls cleared the smoke, he turned to the tactical display. The battle outside had devolved into a stalemate—his forces fighting an unknown threat while his prisoners escaped. He weighed his options, then made his decision. Activating the fleet-wide channel, he commanded, "All forces, prepare for immediate departure!" He turned to his second-in-command. "Charge secondary cannons. Launch a full barrage. That should keep them distracted while we leave. We can't afford too many losses here."
In the corridors, Batman and Constantine sprinted through the passageways. Batman's cowl projected their route, overlaying the map his suit had constructed during infiltration.
"Batman," Constantine gasped, struggling to keep pace, "please tell me you have an exit strategy."
"I planted explosives throughout the ship. Not ideal placement, but enough to cause serious damage and create an opening. We just need to get clear first."
"Brilliant. One problem—we're still on a bloody enemy warship! Unless you've got a map hidden somewhere or there's a convenient 'Exit This Way' sign I'm missing—"
"I've been mapping the ship since we boarded." Batman's tone remained calm despite their sprint. He briefly glanced sideways at Constantine. "Stop being dramatic."
Constantine's jaw clenched. 'Payback. This is absolutely payback for earlier with Hal and Arthur. Argh... I hate working with this smug bastard.'
The Command Deck
"My King, we've lost the intruders," Vahn reported, his voice tight with nervous energy.
Orm's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Lost them? You're telling me you can't find two vermin on a sealed vessel?"
Vahn hesitated. "My king, they're skilled at evasion. The mage's magic is somehow masking their presence, but I assure you we—"
"Enough." Orm cut him off with a dismissive wave. "They don't matter anymore." He raised his trident and drove it into the floor. The impact rang through the deck as divine power surged through his veins, a deep hum resonating across the command center. "We move forward as planned. If they slip away today, so be it—we'll cross paths soon enough."
He lowered himself onto the throne and locked the trident into its receptor. The ship answered immediately, thrumming with restrained energy.
Power flooded through every conduit and system. Half of the collected energy had already been crystallized and delivered to the Shinto Pantheon, but what remained—contained within Pandora's Box—was enough. More than enough. The artifact had changed everything. With it, he'd enhanced not just himself, but his weapons and his entire army.
Orm's eyes blazed with cold blue light as divine energy filled his body. He was no longer just an Atlantean warrior.
"Lock onto the intruders outside," he commanded, his voice resonating across the deck. "All secondary cannons. Fire on my mark."
The Providence's massive turrets rotated, barrels humming as they charged with concentrated energy. The targeting systems locked onto three targets, Aquaman, Hal Jordan, and Cheetah.
"Fire."
A devastating beam erupted from the ship. The water itself seemed to scream as the blast carved through it, vaporizing everything in its path.
Aquaman raised his trident instinctively. "Brace yourselves!"
Golden energy flared around them as the trident generated a protective barrier, but Orm's assault was overwhelming. The beam struck with the force of a collapsing star, and the abyssal silt ignited along its trajectory, turning the water into a hellscape of fire and pressure.
The shockwave slammed into all three heroes, hurling them backward through the water. They tumbled helplessly through the churning chaos. Cheetah's flora withered and died. Hal's constructs shattered into glittering fragments. Aquaman's grip on the trident loosened—he nearly lost it in the turbulence.
They crashed into a rocky outcropping miles away. Ancient stone cracked under the impact, fissures appeared across its surface.
"Ugh... Everyone alive?" Aquaman groaned, forcing himself upright. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead.
"Alive," Hal coughed, his yellow energy flickering weakly around him. "Barely."
Cheetah pushed herself to her feet, her golden-green aura still burning strong despite the strain she'd felt absorbing that hit. "What the hell was that? That wasn't a normal attack."
"No." Aquaman's expression darkened as he stared at the distant Providence. "I felt divine energy in that blast. Orm may have just found a way to weaponize the Abyssal Silt itself."
"Orm's more dangerous than we thought," Hal muttered.
Cheetah's expression suddenly shifted, her chest tightening. "Batman's still on that ship."
Without waiting for a response, she shot toward the fleet.
Hal and Aquaman exchanged a tired look, then pushed off after her, gathering what strength they had left.
Deep in the Imperial Providence
Batman and Constantine raced through the lower decks as energy blasts tore through the corridors behind them.
"There!" Batman gestured toward an emergency airlock ahead.
Without breaking stride, he dropped small explosive charges at possible weak points along their path—near conduits, support beams, anything that looked critical.
"You better know what you're doing!" Constantine shouted as another blast scorched past his head, close enough to singe his hair.
"I do."
They soon reached the airlock. Batman's fist slammed against the activation panel. The mechanisms groaned to life, and the outer door began its slow grind open. Water surged in with crushing force.
"Deep breath—now!"
The airlock blew open fully and launched them into the Unspoken Waters. Behind them, the Imperial Providence's engines roared to life, the massive vessel beginning its retreat.
Batman and Constantine activated their helmets and rebreathers. Through the murky water, Batman spotted Cheetah's golden-green aura cutting through the darkness toward them, Hal and Aquaman racing close behind.
The Providence was already accelerating, its escort fleet tightening formation into a protective screen. Orm wasn't staying to fight—he was withdrawing with his prize intact.
"The explosives!" Constantine's voice crackled over the comms. "Blow them!"
Batman's hand hovered over the detonator. "Not yet. We're too close."
Cheetah reached them first, her Ki coiling around both men in a protective cocoon. "Are you hurt?"
"We're fine," Batman said.
Just then, his suit's sensors shrieked a warning. The Providence's secondary cannons were charging, energy readings spiking dangerously.
"Scatter!" Aquaman shouted, sensing the buildup, raising his trident.
Batman's thumb came down on his belt and activated the detonation sequence.
The charges detonated in a cascading sequence throughout the Providence's lower decks. The explosives weren't enough to destroy the ship but were enough to cripple it.
The energy building in the secondary cannons spiked and destabilized. Operators scrambled to abort firing before the weapons tore themselves apart.
The Providence lurched slightly to port, alarms shrieking as soldiers fought flames and sealed breaches. But despite everything, the ship didn't stop. The Orichalcum hull contained the damage, and the engines continued driving it forward.
"What just happened?" Hal stared at the retreating fleet. "I thought we were done for."
"I left Orm some parting gifts," Batman said, watching the fleet disappear into the murky distance. "Despite the setbacks, we succeeded in our primary objective. We've confirmed his capabilities, alliances, and intentions. Now we retreat."
"We need to stop him," Aquaman said, his voice heavy. "If he returns to Earth with that kind of power..."
"We will. But first, we get home," Cheetah said. "The League needs to know what we're facing."
Batman pulled a small device from his belt and activated it. A steady pulse began transmitting. "Beacon's active. We can track our ship." He looked at each of them. "Cheetah's right. Standing here won't help anyone. Let's move."
As they swam toward their vessel, Batman's mind cycled through contingencies. Orm had evolved into something far more dangerous than any of them had anticipated—a would-be god backed by pantheons, armed with soul-draining technology, driven by bitter resentment.
"Batman," Constantine said quietly on an isolated channel. "What do you make of his claim about dealing with Orach? Think he was bluffing?"
Batman's expression remained grim. "I don't know. But the way he said it... he believes it. Whether it's truth or delusion remains to be seen."
"So we assume it's true?" Constantine pressed. "We should warn Orach. The League needs to know. Anything capable of threatening him doesn't bode well for the rest of us."
"Agreed," Batman said with a nod.
The four heroes pressed on through the Unspoken Waters until they reached their ship.
And somewhere in the distance, aboard his flagship, Orm sat upon his throne, eyes blazing with divine power as his vessel crossed the dimensional threshold—returning to Earth.