Chapter 393: The Battle Is About to Erupt
Orm was a miserable man.
His throne had been usurped by Aquaman, his fiancée seduced by that same man, and even his own mother took Aquaman's side.
Where was justice? Where was fairness?
So, Orm held no sentimental attachment to Atlantis.
Naturally, everyone looked at him with pity.
After all, before recruiting him, Allen had already shared Orm's tragic story.
If Allen hadn't rescued him from the desert, he might've withered away into a dried-up old man by now.
"Let it go,"
Allen patted him on the shoulder and comforted him, "Mera likes to drop five and a half pounds of crap in bed—you wouldn't be able to handle that."
"…"
Orm blinked in confusion, clearly not understanding the implication.
Only Allen and Deadpool Wade would get the reference.
After all, the actress who played Mera had made headlines with plenty of bizarre revelations during her divorce proceedings.
"Back to the point. We depart immediately."
Everyone was present, forming a temporary five-man team: Allen, Morgan, Namor, Orm, and T'Challa.
"Isn't this a bit abrupt?" Namor pointed out.
He and Orm were both wanted criminals in Atlantis. Showing up out of nowhere might get them arrested.
Besides, Aquaman likely wouldn't trust them.
Namor was a deposed monarch of the previous regime—he'd naturally provoke hostility.
Orm's case was even worse. He was a convict who had escaped prison. Officially, his escape should be punished—if Queen Atlanna hadn't deliberately turned a blind eye, he wouldn't have been enjoying cockroach burgers in peace.
"You're right. It is a bit sudden."
Allen walked over to a shelf and retrieved the guitar from his previous cross-universe journey. He also tucked a VHS tape into his belt.
The tape was, of course, a medium to summon Sadako—just in case he needed a little "blast from the past" to spice things up.
"Sun Sun, got any old TVs lying around?"
Allen wasn't familiar with the inventory, so he turned to Unita with any odd request.
"Third row, third cabinet on the right," she replied.
Inside were various trinkets, all miniaturized using Pym Particles for easy storage.
After a bit of rummaging, he found a pendant shaped like a vintage television.
Seeing Allen fully geared up, Namor hesitated to speak. Clearly, he'd misunderstood the situation.
"Let's go."
Having previously defeated the Drowned and visited the Atlantean palace, Allen could now teleport directly there with ease.
The palace also had systems to keep out seawater, so they didn't need to worry about suffocating.
With one step into the portal, they arrived inside the royal court.
The atmosphere instantly grew awkward.
They were met with the sight of Queen Atlanna and a group of Atlantean nobles in the middle of a meeting.
In Atlantis, the monarchy and the elder council were opposing forces, constantly at odds over vested interests.
Aquaman, who had little patience for political games, rarely stayed in Atlantis and instead lived on land with his family.
In contrast, Queen Atlanna, raised in royal court politics, handled such matters with practiced ease.
"Orm."
Seeing her long-lost son, Queen Atlanna's gaze filled with guilt and affection.
Though Orm had been born of a political marriage, he was still her flesh and blood.
If not for her hopes of peace between land and sea, she wouldn't have insisted on crowning Arthur.
"Orm, aren't you supposed to be in prison? How are you here?"
An elderly woman in regal attire snapped imperiously, "And who are you people?"
Allen didn't bother playing nice. "And who the hell are you, old hag?"
"I am Granara, Elder of the Atlantean Council," the old woman said haughtily.
Queen Atlanna's face instantly darkened.
Atlantis functioned under a dual power structure—royal authority and the Elder Council. Each kept the other in check.
She feared the Council would use Orm's escape as political ammunition.
"This doesn't concern you. We're not here for you."
Allen turned to the queen. "Black Manta has found the Dark Trident. He's about to launch an attack on Atlantis."
As soon as he said this, the conservative elders burst out laughing.
"What nonsense. Trying to scare us with made-up stories."
"The Dark Trident? Never heard of such a thing."
"Guards! Arrest these trespassers from the surface."
Clearly, the elders had never heard of the Dark Trident and dismissed Allen's words as wild lies.
Even Queen Atlanna looked puzzled.
The truth of the Dark Trident was a secret of Namor's royal bloodline.
Since Namor's ancestor had seized the throne illegitimately, the story had been wiped from official history.
Even Atlanna's father, upon taking the throne, had altered the textbooks to bury the truth.
Soon, palace guards poured in and surrounded the group.
"Seize them."
Atlanna issued the command herself.
In truth, it was a stalling tactic—she didn't want the Council to act first. She planned to release them later.
She recognized Allen as the one who had once saved the royal family.
If not for him, the Drowned would've wiped out the entire royal line, sparing only Orm who was living on land at the time.
"What now?" T'Challa asked nervously, eyeing the heavily armed royal guard.
He knew firsthand how formidable their armor was and suddenly felt rather out of place.
They had come to help, not to become enemies.
"We surrender," Allen said unusually calmly.
If they started a fight now, they'd be seen as hostiles, making it impossible to help.
Allen himself didn't particularly care about Atlantis—he was just here to help Namor settle a personal score.
Since they weren't being welcomed, it was better to let Orm handle diplomacy.
The five of them were disarmed and thrown into a cell.
Shortly after, Queen Atlanna came to visit.
Separated by iron bars, Orm stayed silent, avoiding even a glance at his mother.
"Orm, I know you hate me."
Atlanna sighed. "But I had no choice. I hope someday you'll understand."
"I understand," Allen cut in. "You were just biased. You thought Arthur was the better son, and Orm was hopeless trash."
"No! I never thought that!"
Atlanna shook her head desperately. "I've always loved Arthur and Orm equally. I've never played favorites!"
"Save the act."
Allen practically slipped into character, his tone charged. "If you really meant that, why didn't you mediate? The throne should've gone to Orm. Yet you backed Arthur! And Mera? How could you let her marry Arthur? You're a real piece of work as a mother!"
Everyone in the cell stared at Allen, stunned.
This wasn't even his family drama—why was he so worked up?
To an outsider, it might've looked like he was her son.
Allen's tirade left Atlanna speechless.
The facts were undeniable. Any excuse sounded hollow.
Regardless of the details, Orm did deserve some sympathy.
Of course, if Allen had known Orm once planned to invade the surface, he would've handed out a few flying justice kicks himself.
"Enough."
Orm said quietly, "I've let it all go."
"Let go!?"
Allen was shocked. "You've let it go? Then pick it back up! You lost your throne, your wife—let me help you get it all back!"
"…"
Orm was at a loss.
He didn't care about the throne anymore. And as for Mera—she and Arthur had a kid now. Trying to take her back would just be... incestuous.
"Let's focus," Orm quickly changed the subject.
If he let Allen keep going, old grudges would get rekindled real fast.
"Right," Allen smacked his forehead. "Got way too into character there. Felt like I was the one who got cheated on."
He turned to Atlanna, grinning sheepishly. "Anyway, old lady, here's the deal…"
After an emotional (and dramatic) explanation, backed by Orm's repeated confirmations, Atlanna finally realized the seriousness of the situation.
"I'll begin preparations immediately."
Whether it was true or not, they had to take it seriously.
If Black Manta really launched a sneak attack, the damage could be catastrophic—and potentially threaten the monarchy.
The last attack by the Drowned had already left deep scars. It had taken a long time for Atlantis to recover.
Most importantly, the royal family's prestige had plummeted, allowing the Elder Council to rise in influence.
…
At a Coastal Lighthouse
A beacon for ships at sea during the night.
Arthur lived a peaceful life there with his wife and child in his father's home.
Far from political scheming, he focused on being a good husband and father—the life he cherished most.
The family sat on the couch, enjoying a cozy TV night.
Suddenly, the screen flickered, and Queen Atlanna appeared.
"Arthur, the kingdom is in danger. Return at once."
Then it flickered again, returning to the normal program.
A long silence followed.
Arthur finally said, "I'm heading back to Atlantis. Stay here with the kid."
"I'm worried," Mera said. "Let's send the child to your father, just in case."
Having survived a crisis before, she didn't want Arthur to face danger alone.
"Better not," Arthur said with a chuckle. "You don't do well on land—just rest. I'll be back soon, don't worry."
Gurgle gurgle…
Mera's cheeks flushed. She looked at her belly, nodded, and rushed to the bathroom.
Sigh…
Arthur let out a long sigh. His eyes held a trace of helplessness.
Ever since they returned to land, Mera had been constantly having diarrhea—huge, stinking messes. If it weren't for the baby, he might've already dumped her.
Grabbing the golden trident hanging on the drying rack, Arthur leapt out the window and plunged into the ocean.
…
A Remote Island at Sea
David looked up at the fighter jet soaring toward him.
Moments later, a black figure dropped from the sky.
The figure stood up, removed his helmet, and revealed Erik's face.
"Brother, long time no see."
"Brother, I missed you."
They embraced warmly, patting each other's backs with genuine joy.
"Nice suit," David admired. "Is that a Black Panther model?"
"Golden Leopard suit. Looks good, right?"
Erik proudly showed it off. Before coming, he had taken T'Challa's spare suit from Shuri—naturally, as the new king, he deserved it.
Of course, there was mutual admiration. Erik glanced at the two halves of the Dark Trident at David's waist.
"Congrats on finding the artifact."
After some pleasantries, they boarded the submarine.
Erik had brought a hundred elite guards, all equipped with vibranium suits.
These were warriors loyal to his chieftain faction, assigned specifically to assist him.
Erik had been upfront: he wanted to help David conquer Atlantis and unite the surface world.
If they succeeded, Wakanda would rule the land, and the tribes would all reap the rewards—an unprecedented opportunity.
Why only a hundred soldiers? Because vibranium suits were in limited supply.
The guards' suits were based on older tech—more affordable to produce than the current Black Panther gear.
Erik had even acquired 100 doses of super soldier serum to bolster their strength.
They landed the Quinjet and activated its cloaking device.
The team boarded David's submarine.
There, they met Killian and exchanged brief introductions.
Erik valued Killian greatly—his Extremis virus had potential. Erik hoped it could make him stronger… and cure his erectile dysfunction.
But since the virus wasn't fully stable, he wasn't rushing.
"Head for the deep sea."
They couldn't recklessly charge into Atlantis. Every step had to be perfect.
With only five submarines, they'd be destroyed before getting close.
So, David would first summon evil sea creatures to serve as cannon fodder.
Once submerged deep enough, David exited the sub.
Empowered by an evil god, he could breathe underwater like a sea dweller.
In the pitch-black depths of the ocean—nature's forbidden zone—there were no signs of life, only eerie silence.
He raised the assembled Dark Trident high above his head.
Suddenly, green light burst forth, illuminating the ocean like a guiding beacon.
Whirrr…
Water churned, releasing dense bubbles.
Through the periscope, the sailors watched as massive shadows darted past.
Turning on the floodlights, they saw—horrified—that the area was now teeming with unfamiliar, otherworldly sea creatures.
All were pitch-black, their deep-set eyes gleaming with unspeakable evil.
These were the dark beasts of the deep sea.
And they looked at David with reverence, as if worshipping their king—awaiting his command.
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