Beneath the crushing weight of the Mariana Trench, where even sunlight went, "Nope," and retreated like a scared kitten, five figures descended through the darkness like they owned the place.
At the front was Eidolon. Because of course he was.
His black leather armor pulsed with crimson veins of energy, lighting up the ocean floor like a rave thrown by angry gods. His cloak fluttered dramatically in a current that didn't exist—because Eidolon was the kind of guy who brought his own drama. His hood cast a deep shadow, his helmet glinted like obsidian, and those glowing crimson eyes? Yeah. Not just for show. He practically radiated "final boss energy."
Next to him was Wonder Woman, who, if anyone could pull off grace and fury simultaneously underwater, it was her. Her dark hair floated around her like a halo, and her armor gleamed gold even in the deep blue gloom. Her lasso glowed faintly at her hip, humming with ancient magic and zero patience.
Then there was Arthur Curry, aka the reluctant fish-prince of Atlantis, trailing behind like a man going to the dentist. He was built like someone who could bench-press a blue whale, and his scowl said, "I'd rather be literally anywhere else." Trident in hand, blonde hair waving like a shampoo commercial from hell, he was every inch the underwater Hercules—who really, really didn't want to be king.
Flanking him were Mera and Vulko. Mera looked like she belonged on the cover of a fantasy epic—regal, terrifying, and entirely capable of turning your blood into steam with a flick of her wrist. Vulko, on the other hand, resembled the world's most stressed-out sea-wizard. Because he was.
They arrived at the base of the trench, and there it was: Poseidon's Mercy. Aka, the "nuke the world but make it my fault" button. Ancient Atlantean stone towered before them, covered in glowing glyphs and coral that looked suspiciously like it had teeth. And at its heart stood Orm.
Ocean Master.
Clad in regal armor that looked like Poseidon himself had forged it out of salt and bad decisions, Orm stood with his hand resting over the control sphere. The orb pulsed like a heartbeat—an angry, world-ending heartbeat. Around him, elite Atlantean guards hovered in formation, all bristling with weapons and egos.
Eidolon's eyes narrowed.
"I thought I told you to run home with your crown between your legs," he said casually, voice echoing through the trench like thunder wrapped in sarcasm. "Didn't realize you were into public humiliation."
Orm's jaw tightened. Yeah, he remembered. Eidolon had flattened him an hour ago. Broke his trident. Broke his pride. Left him floating like yesterday's garbage. And now, here he was again, acting like he owned the ocean.
"You overstep, mongrel," Orm spat. "This is Atlantean business. The surface world—"
"Will drown because you have daddy issues," Eidolon cut in. "I get it. Mommy didn't hug you. Now you're threatening global extinction. Classic villain arc."
Vulko swam forward before the snark levels reached lethal.
"This device," he said quickly, "will destabilize tectonic plates across the Pacific Ring of Fire. Earthquakes. Tsunamis. Megafloods. Millions will die." He turned to Arthur. "The only way to stop him now is through the Rite of Kings. Single combat."
Arthur blinked. "You want me to fight him?"
"You have royal blood," Vulko insisted. "Born of Atlanna. The people will follow you if you defeat him."
"I didn't sign up for this," Arthur muttered.
"No," Mera said, swimming beside him. "But you were born for it."
Eidolon crossed his arms. "Look, King Tuna Melt, we don't have time for your brooding anti-hero routine. Either stab your evil stepbrother or I unleash the Savage Burn and toast this whole trench. Your call."
Arthur scowled. "You think it's that simple?"
"No," Eidolon replied. "I think it's hard. But I also think you're the only guy who can fix this. So suck it up, Aquabro, and make your mommy proud."
Arthur exhaled through his nose. Hard.
Then, slowly, he turned to Orm. "You want the throne? Come and take it."
Orm's smirk returned. "Gladly."
He removed his hand from the control sphere and swam toward the dueling platform. The elite guards backed off. The Rite of Kings had begun.
Eidolon drifted beside Diana, arms still folded.
"If he dies," he muttered, "I'm going to throw the ocean at Orm."
Diana glanced sideways, eyebrow arched. "That's not how oceans work."
"I make my own rules."
She smiled slightly. "You're very dramatic."
"I'm literally glowing with red death energy and wearing a cape at the bottom of the sea. What gave it away?"
Below, Arthur and Orm clashed. Trident met trident with a clang that echoed through the trench like a war drum. Shockwaves rocked the seafloor. Coral shattered. Ancient glyphs flared and died.
They fought like gods.
But only one of them was fighting to save the world.
And the other? He was fighting not to lose it.
—
Tridents clashed like underwater thunder, the sound rolling through the trench like Poseidon's personal soundcheck. The first blow sent a ripple so intense it made even the bioluminescent coral flinch like it had just been served piping-hot tea.
Arthur grunted as Orm's second strike shot toward his shoulder like a missile with sibling issues. He twisted mid-spin, water trailing behind him like a cape in slow motion, deflecting the jab by mere inches.
"I forgot how stabby family reunions can get," Eidolon muttered, arms folded, floating sideways like it was casual Friday in the Danger Zone. His crimson eyes tracked every move like he was judging a very violent underwater ballet. Spoiler: He was.
Diana didn't glance at him. She was too busy being glorious, her long dark hair waving in the current like it was in a shampoo commercial. "You've seen more violence than anyone I know, and yet you're still the snarkiest person here."
Eidolon smirked. "That's because I cope with sarcasm and savagery. Preferably in equal measure. And occasionally with glitter."
Down below, Orm roared and launched a geyser-blast of kinetic water that slammed Arthur into the wall hard enough to crack coral and dent his pride. The trench shuddered. Bits of ancient sea-growth crumbled like soggy granola bars. Mera winced.
"He's going to need a chiropractor. And possibly a new spine."
"No time," Vulko muttered, swimming in urgent circles. Willem Dafoe energy levels: 9000. "If Orm activates the failsafe, we're looking at a flood that would make Noah tap out. Worse than the time I accidentally summoned a kraken to my dissertation presentation."
Everyone stared at him.
Vulko blinked. "It was a very complicated spell."
Arthur rebounded off the coral like a torpedo of righteous fury. "I didn't come here to play king!" he bellowed, spinning his trident beneath Orm's guard and jabbing the handle into his brother's designer-armored gut.
Orm grunted, flipped backward with the grace of a very angry jellyfish, and righted himself. "Then die as a peasant!"
"See," Eidolon said, raising a finger, "that's just rude. And historically inaccurate. Arthur's got at least middle-class vibes."
Orm lunged. Arthur dodged. Trident met trident in a crackling spray of electricity and sheer family drama. This time Orm's strike knocked Arthur's weapon loose. It spiraled into the dark like a lost frisbee.
"Uh oh," Eidolon said, eyes glowing brighter. "We're in the No-Trident Zone. Someone fetch him a backup! Or a giant sea turtle! Or a swordfish named Steve!"
Arthur wasn't listening. He twisted into a barrel roll, caught his trident mid-spin, and shattered Orm's follow-up strike like it owed him money. Lightning flared around them. The ocean dimmed in comparison.
"You want a king?" Arthur roared, voice booming like an underwater concert, trident pointed like divine judgment. "HERE'S ONE!"
He slammed the trident into the seabed. Energy exploded outward like someone had just nuked the ocean with raw alpha-male energy. Guards flipped. Jellyfish screamed (probably). The impact even made Eidolon's cloak flutter dramatically.
Orm screamed, armor cracking.
"Okay, that I felt," Eidolon said, adjusting his helmet. "Also, I may need a new codpiece. Anyone got kelp tape?"
Diana smirked and nudged him. "You're not invincible."
He turned, deadpan. "No. Just stylish. You, though—glad to see you brought the goddess-tier cheekbones. And the sword. Both essential."
Diana rolled her eyes, but her smile tugged at the corners. "Flatter me later. We have a war to finish."
Back in the ring of aquatic doom, Orm flailed like a merman who'd just realized he lost the throne and the dramatic monologue. Arthur parried, spun, and disarmed him in a golden-blue blur that screamed "superhero landing incoming."
Orm's trident hit the ocean floor with a hollow thunk.
Arthur hovered, chest heaving, trident poised at Orm's throat.
Orm froze. Panting. Furious. Defeated.
Vulko drifted forward with the grace of an anxious jellyfish. "The Rite of Kings is complete. Arthur Curry is the rightful ruler of Atlantis."
Silence.
Slow clapping echoed.
It was Eidolon.
"About time," he said, floating upside-down like it was a sport. "I was this close to flipping the Mariana Trench on its axis. Would've made a great TikTok, but y'know, consequences."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You can do that?"
Eidolon shrugged. "Can and should are very different things. Kinda like using glitter bombs in a war zone. Fun? Yes. Smart? Not always."
Mera swam up and touched Arthur's arm gently. Her hair danced like a halo in the current. "You did it."
He looked down at Orm, then at the now-inactive Poseidon's Mercy. "I didn't want this," he said quietly. "But maybe… I was made for it."
Diana joined them, regal and fierce. Her lasso curled like a golden snake at her hip. "True leaders don't chase power. They rise when it's needed most."
Eidolon grinned. "And look hot while doing it. Seriously, if I had abs like that I'd declare myself Emperor of Earth. Again."
Arthur gave him a flat look. "You already dress like one."
"I call it anti-fashion apocalypse-chic," Eidolon replied with mock pride.
"Stop flirting with the new king," Diana said, voice dry as an undersea desert. "We still have a ticking time-bomb to disarm."
Eidolon sighed dramatically. "I miss the days when saving the world didn't come with homework. Or ticking doomsday devices. Or... emotions."
Mera smirked. "Atlantis is yours, Your Majesty."
Arthur groaned. "Gods help me."
Above, bioluminescent jellyfish drifted down like confetti. Somewhere in the distance, whales sang a congratulatory ballad. Maybe. Or they were arguing about plankton. Hard to tell with whales.
And in the deepest trench of the sea, for the first time in a thousand years, Atlantis had a king worth believing in.
Cue dramatic swell of underwater theme music.
And Eidolon? He just gave a lazy salute. "Long live the king. Now, who wants calamari?"
Because of course he did.
—
The water shifted. Not dramatically. Not with a cinematic boom or a swell of orchestra. More like the ocean held its breath—and then whispered, "Something's not right."
Eidolon felt it first. Of course, he did. Magic hummed through him like a tuning fork tapped against the bones of the world. He froze mid-float, his crimson eyes narrowing.
"Okay," he muttered, tilting his head toward the glowing heart of Poseidon's Mercy. "That is not runic energy. That is... alive."
Diana, golden lasso coiled at her hip and hair drifting like silk in zero gravity, swam closer. "Alive?"
"Yeah." Eidolon raised his hand and activated his mage-sight. Suddenly, the world exploded in symbols and glowing ley lines. Threads of power curled around a single point like star systems orbiting a black hole. "Not a machine. Not a power source. A soul."
Arthur's brow furrowed. "A soul? You mean there's a person in there?"
"I mean there's a she in there." Eidolon floated toward the core like an arcane surgeon prepping for a very illegal operation. "Suspended animation. Magical stasis. And she's got the kind of power signature that says, 'I bench-pressed a Leviathan before breakfast and then made it apologize for existing.'"
Mera blinked. "That's oddly specific."
"I go to weird brunches."
Vulko hovered nearby, looking like he wanted to sink into the ocean floor. "That's impossible. There's no record of anyone inside the Mercy. It was built after the first war with—"
"Oh, we're definitely in first war territory," Eidolon cut in, eyes still glowing. "This thing isn't just Atlantean tech. It's Atlantean tech that's been Mother Boxed. Which is so forbidden, I think I just heard the universe file a restraining order."
Diana's expression sharpened, voice cool but lethal. "Show me."
Arthur, being Arthur, cracked his knuckles. "If there's someone trapped in there, we're getting them out."
What followed was a coordinated ballet of brute force and divine finesse. Diana moved like a goddess in motion, slicing through power conduits with Amazonian grace. Arthur, ever the wrecking ball in a trident-shaped china shop, handled the heavy lifting—literally. And Eidolon? He burned through magical wards like a hacker in a power fantasy montage. Runes lit up and disintegrated beneath his fingers.
"This one's rigged to explode in about three seconds."
"Should we back off?" Mera asked.
Eidolon grinned like he'd just been dared to eat a firecracker. "Nah. I'm excellent at terrible decisions."
Three seconds later, the ward fizzled out harmlessly.
"Told you."
Eventually, they reached the inner sanctum.
A sarcophagus. Black and gold, inscribed in Atlantean runes that flickered with ancient, sleeping power. Floating in eerie silence.
Diana pressed a hand to the glass. Her eyes widened. "She's... beautiful."
Inside, suspended in magic like a paused heartbeat, was a warrior queen. Tall. Regal. Skin like polished bronze. Armor like a second skin. Black hair fanned around her like a solar eclipse in liquid form.
Mera gasped. "No way."
Vulko choked on his words. "It can't be. That's—that has to be Queen Marella."
Arthur blinked. "You mean the Queen Marella? I thought she was a myth. Like underwater Bigfoot."
"She was real," Vulko said quietly. "Led our forces during the first war with Darkseid. Fought beside Queen Hippolyta and General Antiope. The archives say she vanished during the final battle."
Diana's expression turned distant. "My mother spoke of her. Said she fought like a tempest. Back to back with Amazons, against the forces of Apokolips."
Eidolon raised an eyebrow. "Well, either she overslept for a thousand years or someone hit snooze on purpose."
Arthur crossed his arms. "So, you think someone put her here to power the Mercy?"
Eidolon floated closer, placing his hand against the sarcophagus. It pulsed beneath his fingers. "Elegant, in a war-crime-meets-black-magic kind of way. Trap the queen in stasis, wire her up like a Christmas tree, and boom: infinite power source."
Mera's eyes narrowed. "Who would even do something like that?"
Vulko looked grim. "King Atlan took the throne after Marella disappeared."
Eidolon glanced at him. "Yeah. And in my experience, when your predecessor mysteriously vanishes, you probably know exactly where the body is."
Diana gave him a look. "Charming."
"I try," he said, shooting her a grin. "Also, your hair does this floaty goddess thing in saltwater. It's distracting."
She didn't blush. But she did look... amused. Which was basically a Diana-equivalent of swooning.
Arthur clapped a hand on Eidolon's shoulder. "Can we wake her up or not, Romeo?"
"I can," Eidolon said. "But it won't be easy. Or safe."
"Define not safe."
"Waking up a cosmic-class warrior queen from a thousand-year magical coma is basically punching fate in the face. There could be screaming. Explosions. Existential crises."
Arthur looked to Diana. Diana looked back. Then they both looked at him and said in perfect sync:
"Do it."
Eidolon sighed dramatically. "You people never learn. All right, let's poke the bear."
He planted both hands on the sarcophagus. Magic crackled like a lightning storm at midnight. Glyphs ignited. Power surged through the chamber. Somewhere deep within the heart of Poseidon's Mercy, something ancient and furious stirred.
And Queen Marella opened her eyes.
—
Queen Marella exploded out of the sarcophagus like an ancient goddess with a bone to pick—and the ocean obeyed her mood with dramatic enthusiasm.
Golden eyes lit up like twin suns under the sea, and the water around her twisted and churned in tight spirals, doing its best impression of a hurricane audition. She looked around the chamber like someone scanning a buffet for her next victim.
"State your names," she snapped. Her voice cracked like a whip made of ice and rage. "Or I'll assume you're enemies and reduce you to plankton."
Arthur raised his hands slowly, like someone trying not to spook a very powerful and very stabby jellyfish.
"I'm Arthur. Arthur Curry. Some call me Aquaman."
Marella tilted her head. "Curry?"
"Yeah. It's, uh… not super Atlantean," Arthur admitted. He scratched the back of his neck like a teenager who just got caught cheating on a seaweed pop quiz.
Vulko stepped forward with the cautious reverence of someone who's seen way too many angry queens and lived to regret it. He bowed deep.
"My Queen," he said. "I am Nudis Vulko. Former vizier to King Atlan. And this is Orin, son of Atlanna, rightful heir to the throne of Atlantis."
Marella blinked. Then blinked again, slower this time, as she gave Arthur a longer once-over.
"Orin, son of Atlanna… That would make you—"
Arthur offered a sheepish half-shrug. "Your great-nephew, I think? Honestly, I've seen enough telenovelas to know this could go a lot of ways."
Marella's expression shifted. Barely. Maybe one whole degree softer. "You are the heir? Then… Atlantis still endures?"
"For now," came another voice, smooth and steady. Diana stepped forward like she was made of marble and moonlight, her armor catching the bioluminescent glow in dazzling arcs. Marella's back straightened at the sight of her, instincts warring with familiarity.
"Amazons," Marella said, her tone dipped in memory. "It has been too long."
Diana bowed respectfully. "Diana of Themyscira. Daughter of Hippolyta. She fought beside you against the forces of Apokolips."
Marella's lips quirked upward in the ghost of a smile. "I remember. She was fierce."
Then her eyes locked on Eidolon.
Floating just above the others, he was the picture of "mysterious hot guy who might've just sauntered out of a dark fantasy anime." His hood shadowed most of his face, but the glint of something smug sparkled from beneath.
"And what are you?" Marella asked, suspicion lacing her words.
Eidolon grinned like a cat that had swallowed the Kraken.
"Oh, I'm nobody special," he said airily. "Just your garden-variety Champion of Death, spell-breaker, magical locksmith, destroyer of enchanted prisons, and certified gremlin with attitude. Also, voted Most Likely to Ruin a Prophecy three years in a row."
Diana sighed. "His name is Eidolon."
He gave her a cheeky salute. "Wonder Woman, always so modest on my behalf."
"You do enough bragging for both of us."
"True, but you love that about me."
"I barely know you."
"You want to know me."
Diana folded her arms but didn't argue. Arthur made a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan.
"Look, Queen Marella, Atlantis needs stability. The kingdom's been tossed around more than a surfboard in a typhoon. We thought you were dead, the throne went to Atlan, and now it's me."
Marella's eyes narrowed. "Atlantis cannot have two monarchs."
"Exactly. And I don't want a war. Or a magical deathmatch with coral whips. Or another cursed crown exploding in someone's face. Again."
"You would surrender your claim?"
"No," Arthur said firmly. "I fought for it. I bled for it. But I also know when I'm outclassed by a literal legendary warrior queen, and I respect what you mean to Atlantis."
Marella's gaze sharpened. "Then what are you proposing, Orin of Atlantis?"
Eidolon clapped once. "Glad you asked!"
Everyone turned.
"I propose a royal marriage."
Stunned silence.
"Between Arthur and Marella," he clarified. "Two rulers, one throne, shared power. Zero bloodshed. Also, ten out of ten on the dramatic romance scale. It's like The Crown meets Aquatic Game of Thrones. With fewer beheadings, hopefully."
Marella blinked. "You're suggesting I marry this… Curry?"
"I'm suggesting you politically marry this Curry," Eidolon said. "And possibly fall head-over-armored-heels later. Look, I'm just the matchmaker, not a miracle worker."
Arthur looked at him like he wanted to throw a sea cucumber. "This wasn't my idea."
"But you're not not considering it," Eidolon shot back.
Vulko rubbed his temples. "This is… highly irregular."
"And yet, not your worst plan," Diana murmured, eyeing Eidolon. "It would unify the kingdom. Respect tradition. And avoid war."
"Also," Eidolon said, now swimming lazy loops in the water like the world's sassiest shark, "the wedding would be iconic. Gowns made of jellyfish silk. A bouquet that explodes into coral doves. Harpoon duels. I'll be your officiant. Or your flower girl. I'm flexible."
Marella finally laughed. A real one this time. "You're insane."
"Guilty. Also hot, dangerous, and chronically underestimated." He winked at Diana, whose expression hovered somewhere between murder and mild flirtation.
"I am starting to enjoy your voice less," she muttered.
"But not enough to leave," Eidolon whispered dramatically.
Arthur sighed. "We don't have to decide anything today. But… we can work this out. Together."
Marella studied him. Really studied him. The man who'd come into her tomb, claimed her throne, and was now offering her a seat beside him instead of demanding she step aside.
"For Atlantis," she said at last.
Eidolon pumped a fist. "YES. Someone call the seahorse courier. We've got a wedding to plan!"
Diana elbowed him hard. He barely flinched.
"You love me," he whispered.
"I barely tolerate you."
"That's how all great love stories start."
Marella turned to Arthur. "Do they always act like this?"
Arthur deadpanned. "I've known them less than a day. And I already want to ban sarcasm from the entire kingdom."
"Good luck," Eidolon said, pulling a kelp ribbon from nowhere and tossing it like a confetti streamer. "Sarcasm's my first language."
And just like that, Atlantis didn't just have two rulers. It had one sarcastic sorcerer, one exasperated Amazon, and a kingdom that was never going to be the same again.
—
As the bioluminescent glow of Atlantean crystals flickered and dimmed, the air settled into a tense kind of peace—the kind that usually came right before either a diplomatic miracle or a tectonic slap-fight between two armies. Wonder Woman adjusted her vambrace with quiet precision, exuding the calm grace of someone who could bench-press a submarine without smudging her eyeliner.
Eidolon, meanwhile, floated beside her, arms crossed, face hidden beneath a shadowy helmet that screamed, "I know what your browser history looks like, and I judge you."
"So," he said, voice lazy and loaded with sarcasm, "with any luck, the rest of the League has handled the incoming nukes by now. Or they're currently being vaporized into heroic confetti. Either or."
Diana arched an eyebrow without looking at him. "You don't think they've succeeded?"
"I'm saying I wouldn't put it past Shazam to accidentally shout 'SHAZAM!' while trying to open the fridge. You know how he is—one loud sneeze and it's thunderbolts and broken appliances."
She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Still, Superman's there."
"Yeah, well, nukes are kind of his thing. Heat vision. Unnerving silence. That weird thing he does where he stares into space like he's thinking about Kant but he's probably just wondering if dogs have kryptonite allergies."
"He doesn't glow, you know."
Eidolon leaned in just a bit. "He sparkled once. I swear. Like a vampire with a gym membership. I was there. It was blinding."
Before Diana could respond with a quip of her own—because yes, even immortal Amazonian warriors have comebacks—the ever-serious voice of Vulko sliced through the water like a passive-aggressive spreadsheet.
"Princess Diana. Champion Eidolon."
They turned, finding Vulko striding toward them, robes billowing dramatically despite there being no current. Because of course. Willem Dafoe-level gravitas demands a constant wind machine.
"Before you return to the surface," Vulko said, clasping his hands behind his back like he was about to tell them the quarterly Atlantean invasion forecast, "there's a matter of diplomacy to consider. Orm's little... outburst this morning has understandably put the surface world on edge."
"We noticed," Eidolon muttered. "Tends to happen when you unleash krakens at breakfast."
"Orm's actions do not reflect the will of Atlantis," Vulko continued. "We must send a message of peace. A representative. Someone who can assure the surface that Atlantis does not seek war."
Eidolon raised a brow beneath his cowl. "You're not seriously suggesting Orm. Because I left my underwater straightjacket back on the jet."
"No," Vulko said with a ghost of a smile. "Princess Mera."
The water shimmered behind them, revealing Mera herself—standing tall, armored in kelp-green and gold, red hair flowing like she'd just stepped out of an action movie trailer. Probably because she had.
"I'm standing right here," Mera said flatly.
"Mera is ideal," Vulko went on, ignoring the sarcasm. "She is young, powerful, and a voice the surface has not yet heard."
"So basically, you're giving us a superpowered mystery box and hoping she doesn't punch a senator," Eidolon said.
Mera rolled her eyes. "I'll do it. But only because the idea of a diplomatic mission sounds less exhausting than another five minutes in this place."
Arthur stepped forward then—broad, blond, and exactly the kind of guy who looked like he wrestled whales for cardio. "I'm good with it," he said. "I mean, we just met this morning, but she seems way less homicidal than Orm, so that's a plus."
"High praise," Mera muttered.
Marella, standing beside Arthur in regal armor that looked like Valkyrie cosplay, nodded. "You have my blessing. Go—and show the surface who Atlantis really is. Preferably with less screaming."
Diana turned to Mera. "It would be an honor to have you by our side."
Mera smirked. "Don't expect me to smile for the press. Or wear heels."
Eidolon gave her a mock salute. "No problem. I've got enough sass and style for both of us. And if anyone asks about you, we'll just say you're my bodyguard."
"Cute," she said. "Try not to get punched before we reach the surface."
Diana leaned toward Eidolon slightly, voice soft. "You keep trying to get punched."
"Only by people prettier than me. It's a weakness."
She laughed—a soft, musical sound that made even the barnacles pause—and Eidolon filed that away like a rare Pokémon card.
And then, with a parting nod from Arthur and a regal wave from Marella, the trio launched from the Mariana Trench.
The sea peeled away behind them, glittering with promise and uncertainty. Ahead lay Gotham—possibly still standing, possibly renamed Crater City. Either way, they were going in loud, fast, and dangerously underdressed for diplomacy.
Just another Tuesday for the Justice League.
—
The Mariana Trench: a place so deep and dark, even the bravest creatures of the deep would hesitate. But there they were—Eidolon, Wonder Woman, and Mera—swimming like they were on a Sunday stroll in the park. Well, if the park was an abyss filled with ancient, uncharted creatures and pressure that would make even the most hardcore diver reconsider their life choices.
Mera, naturally, was the fastest. The currents were no match for her, and she moved through the water with the kind of grace that made it look like she belonged there. The redhead's hair swirled around her like it had a mind of its own. Eidolon and Wonder Woman, however, had a slightly more difficult time keeping up, though they did their best not to fall too far behind. Wonder Woman, despite being an Amazonian warrior with god-like strength, still found herself pushing hard against the water to maintain pace. Eidolon, with his glowing crimson eyes and black leather armor, looked like he was walking through the water, but even he couldn't quite keep up with Mera's natural speed.
"You know, I thought I was in shape," Wonder Woman panted, adjusting the straps of her armor as she kicked hard against the pressure. "But you... wow. You make this look effortless."
Mera glanced over her shoulder, flashing a grin. "It's like breathing to me, Princess. But hey, you're doing great."
Eidolon was floating a few feet behind them, his eyes glowing brighter in the inky depths. He couldn't help but chuckle as he watched them try to catch up. He might have had some of the best training in the multiverse, but swimming? That wasn't his thing. Still, he managed to look effortlessly cool in the process—his black cloak fluttering around him even though there was no current to speak of. His crimson energy veins were pulsing like a heartbeat beneath his armor.
"Hold on tight, ladies," Eidolon called out. "We're almost at the surface. That's when the fun really starts."
Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She knew better than to question him when he sounded this confident. Plus, she was intrigued. Was he really as powerful as he seemed, or was this just a lot of showmanship? Either way, it was definitely entertaining.
Finally, they reached the surface, and the change in pressure was instantaneous. The cool night air hit them like a wall. Mera threw her head back, shaking the water out of her hair, her face lit with the kind of grin that could make gods shiver. Wonder Woman adjusted her lasso, glimmering in the moonlight, and briefly nodded to Eidolon as she caught her breath.
Eidolon, for his part, barely seemed winded. He flicked his wrist, muttered something under his breath, and suddenly, with a wave of crimson energy, the water around them evaporated. They were instantly dry, as though the ocean had never touched them.
"That's more like it," Eidolon said, flashing them both a grin. "Ready to fly?"
Without waiting for an answer, Eidolon moved like lightning. In a blink, he scooped Mera up in his arms, cradling her against his chest. Mera gasped in surprise, her hand instinctively gripping his arm. It was probably the last thing she expected from him. But then, she remembered—he was Eidolon. Nothing about him was ever predictable.
"I—uh, I didn't expect this," Mera said, slightly breathless from the sudden motion.
"Well, you better hold on tight," Eidolon smirked, lifting them both into the sky, his crimson energy thrumming beneath his skin.
Meanwhile, Wonder Woman had already taken to the air, flying beside them effortlessly. She gave Mera a wink as they soared higher, Gotham looming in the distance.
"Don't worry, Mera," Wonder Woman called, her voice smooth and confident, "He's really good at this. But if you're not feeling it, we can always try landing and walking it out."
Mera shot Wonder Woman a sharp glance, her cheeks tinged pink. "Not likely. I've had worse landings."
"Glad to hear it," Wonder Woman said with a smirk, then turned to Eidolon. "Speaking of things that land… earlier, you mentioned something about your cheekbones being 'weapons of mass distraction.' That if I saw your face, I'd fall madly in love with you?"
Eidolon chuckled, a deep, rich sound that filled the night air. "Oh, right. That. Well, I'd say you're probably right. My cheekbones do have a tendency to steal the show."
He flashed her a quick grin, but his voice was teasing, almost challenging. "But, you'll have to wait for the full-on face reveal. Not exactly in the mood to make anyone fall head over heels for me while I'm flying through the air carrying a hot redhead." He shot a glance at Mera, still flushed and gripping his arm like he might vanish at any moment.
Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow. "Hot redhead, huh? Well, I'm not opposed to sharing."
Mera's jaw nearly hit the wind. "Excuse me?"
Eidolon blinked, looking equally flummoxed. "Wait—what?"
Wonder Woman shrugged casually, as if they weren't all in midair, heading toward Gotham to save the world, or whatever. "I'm Themysciran. We have a more… fluid view of relationships than most in the man's world. Commitment tends to be a bit more flexible with us. Let's just say I've experimented a little with some of my fellow Amazons."
Mera's face was a mix of confusion, surprise, and something that might have been jealousy—or was it intrigue? "Wait, what?"
"Not going into details," Wonder Woman said with a smirk. "But, you get the idea. No need to make it a big deal."
Eidolon, still trying to process all this new information, shook his head in disbelief. "Well, that's one way to completely throw me off balance."
Wonder Woman's grin turned wicked. "Hey, it's not my fault you're the one making everyone's head spin."
As they continued to fly toward Gotham, the tension in the air was palpable—at least, until Eidolon broke the silence with a low chuckle.
"Well, I've got to hand it to you, Princess," he said, looking over at Wonder Woman. "You sure know how to keep things interesting."
Wonder Woman winked. "I aim to please."
The lights of Gotham began to glitter below them, and despite the strange and slightly chaotic moment they had just shared, they all knew one thing: whatever happened next, they would face it together.
And, to be honest, saving the world was probably going to be the least exciting part of this whole thing.
---
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