Post by Spider-Man Beyond on Jul 6, 2007 9:11:42 GMT -5
Namor: The Sub-Mariner #8
Written by Mallet
Edited by Daniel Dyer (Spider-Man Beyond)
Destim spoke before a large gathering. All of Atlantis’s nobles had come to hear the Emperor’s next speech. He had ruled them for over 50 years after his family had taken control of the lineage when Princess Fen failed to produce an heir. Through his mastery of magic they had been able to conqueror the whole of the globe, including the foolish air breathers. His reign wasn’t without faults, but they were minor compared to what he had accomplished. Beside him was his chieftain Attuma, formerly the lord of the barbarian hordes that once plagued Atlantis. His surrender and acceptance of Destims rule was one of the Emperors first achievements. Off to his left, behind Attuma sat Lady Dorma, Destim‘s Queen, her skin the brightest blue of any Atlantean which contrasted with her fiery red hair. He spoke loud and clearly with a diction that befit one of his status, the absolute ruler of this Earth.
On this new reality, Destim knew the truth of it all, that he had used the map of reality to forge a divergent timeline that he could rule. There were only two others who knew, Namor who posed little threat as he was left behind, and his Queen Dorma whose own power was tied to his. She had been repulsed at first and even now she resisted him, but she loved leading her people, and thus she served him. Though his rule was not absolute, he had the map of reality etched into his own body but during the final confrontation with the accursed Namor a single line of the tattoo had been broken. In doing so, even in this reality, Destim could not truly control all, he lacked the ability to obliterate and create new life, but beyond that imperfection, he ruled all. Still to the commoners and nobles he was both powerful enough and ruthless enough to not be tested.
<“My good citizens! I come before you not as your ruler but as an Atlantean! I ask you, look at our city, look at the world around us! The prosperity of our people and our rule over the surface! We are each the kings and queens of this new order, our will is LAW!”> (*Translated from Atlantean) The crowd roared, anything that pandered to an almost inborn sense of superiority pleased them greatly.
<“Who is left to resist us? The ‘United States’ have been broken! Britain and her holdings, once labeled with the line ‘The sun never sets on the British Empire.’ Well that sun has set and now she rests in the eternal night that is oblivion! The humans claim only one ‘Free’ state, but soon even Latveria shall fall, and I will dispose of her leader myself!”> Once more the crowd cheered, with boos launched at even the faintest hint of Latveria.
<“Who would dare stand against the might of Atla--”>
<“DESTIM!”>
The Emperor looked up in just enough time to see Namor hurtling down at him, his fist extended. The mock leader never even had a moment’s chance to react before he was sent flying into the wall behind him. A stunned Attuma looked at the newcomer, dressed only in bright green scale trunks. He had pointed ears and wings like the birds on the surface attached to his ankles, but his face only spoke of one thing, rage. Still Attuma drew his blade, but the moment he grabbed the handle, Namor had grabbed him by the neck.
<“You, Barbarian, would defend him?! I should have expected nothing less from your kind!”> The words came out but Namor’s fist had already launched itself. Again, and again, Namor ripped his fist into Attuma, bone’s cracking until only a mound of pale blue flesh was left. Dropping the body, Namor turned again towards Destim who, much to Namor’s surprise had gotten back up and was moving towards him. Namor launched himself back at Destim when, from the corners of his eyes, he saw nearly fifty fully armed and armored Atlantean Imperial Guards coming at him. Destim raised a hand and they all stopped. He knew they would have only slowed Namor down anyway.
<“Destim! Your blood will be spilled for all that has been done!”> Namor continued forward, unabated, his fists raised once more. Destim only held forward a single hand, his palm towards the aggressor when suddenly a bright bolt of the lightning ripped through the water. Destim controlled and manipulated it, stopping the electricity from striking all the others through the water, and hitting Namor dead on. In his rage, Namor plowed forward at Destim, no care to the damage he would take, lightning or otherwise.
His lightning failed, Destim has but to look down and the temple grounds itself formed a granite hand capturing the Sub-Mariner in its cold grip. Destim clenched his own fist and the stone replica squeezed even tighter, several pops told Namor of the breaking of many of his ribs.
Even then, with the rage of all that he’s lost within him, Namor reached deep into himself and finds strength that men would only describe as savage! In that moment he shatters the granite structure from the inside out! Destim only looks at Namor smiling, it has been so long since he had a decent challenge, but it was time to end this.
<“Namor… It’s over.”> Destim raises his hand once more, this time something happened deep inside Namor’s own beating chest. The water in his lungs solidified into a gel, completely seizing his entire body in pain, every attempt at breath another stab into his heart! Crashing into the ground just as he reached Destim, Namor lay curled into a ball, the pain the most intense of his entire life. Destim smiled again and with a wave of his hand, the gel inside Namor liquefied once more, ending the pain.
<“Now then, are you ready to talk?”> Destim spoke smugly.
Namor only got up partly, his hands seemingly stumbling for footing, one finger touching the Emperor’s golden boots. <“Yes Destim,”> he began, <“I’m ready to say something…”>
<“And that would be?”> Destim asked curiously.
<“Given a large enough source, I can channel electricity.”>
With that, the entirety of the bolt that hit Namor before traveled into Destim from a single finger. The Emperor was rocketed back again, into the same hole he made earlier. The Imperial Guards launched towards Namor just as he reached his feet, their blades however bounced from his nearly invincible skin. Grabbing a spear, Namor struck back several of them without reprisal, his speed still to great for them. Still, he staggered to the head of the podium, his speech slurring some from the pain still racking his chest.
<“People of Atlantis… Hear me! I am… your king!”> It was only then that Namor looked out, the grand audience had fled! He spoke to no one now. That wasn’t entirely true, Lady Dorma remained conscious from his assault, but she hid in a corner from him, still she watched. <“I am your king…”> Namor spoke slowly again, leaning over the podium, his voice choking some. He had lost so much of his life, his status, his honor, and now he finally had a chance to tell his people and they ran in fear from him!
SHABAM!
A force struck him from behind, blowing him straight through the podium and onto the empty floor ahead of him. Destim floated into view before him, water swirling around his hands, shining like glass, energy merging in and out of the swirling waves.
<“You have come far, oh mighty Prince, but your end is now.”> Destim’s eyes were glowing with a white fire, his skin turning from a pale blue into a dark purple. <“You will fall, Namor, I have taken your kingdom, your world, and now your life!”> His hand lowered towards Namor’s face, the water began to boil even sizzling at the bottom of the ocean! He would burn right through Namor’s skull, killing him, ending the threat once and for all! <“HAHAHAHAHA--HRK!”>
Destim suddenly stopped and looked towards his chest, the tip of a spear poked through, coming all the way out from the back. Destim staggered and turned only to find Dorma standing there before him, a look of fear overtook her as their eyes met. Destim reached out behind and with a wet pop pulled out the spear, the whole in his chest already beginning to close.
<“Why?!”> Destim screamed.
<“B--B--Better to live freely then the p--p--pawn of a manipulative tyrant!”> she screamed.
Destim raised the spear held high, towering over Dorma, rage at this treachery burning in his eyes once more. Down came the offending object, rushing towards Dorma who sat paralyzed in fear, when suddenly he stopped. Destim looked down once more, but instead of a spearhead poking through the hand, wrist, and entire forearm of Namor sat. In that mighty hand sat yet another item, Destim’s heart, blood filling the water in front of his face so that Destim could barely see it. Namor stood behind him and placed his free hand upon Destim’s shoulder and suddenly raised his trapped hand straight up through Destim! The sound can not be described but the results were positive, Destim was defeated.
His arms hanging low, exhaustion over taking him, Namor fell to his knees, Dorma reaching out to help him when the world around them seemed to melt. In reality, time itself was accepting Atlantis back into its main line, time however could not reconcile what Destim had created. The grand courtyard Namor and Dorma sat in faded into the ruins of the current Altantis Namor had known. When it was down Dorma helped Namor to his feet, the mighty Prince of Atlantis stepping slowly but steadily.
<“Easy now…”> Dorma began, but Namor rose through the water, surveying the lands… Thousands of Atlanteans wandered the ruins of the once proud city, Destim’s Atlantis was much larger, so many didn’t even have ruins to wander. Off in the southeast corner, the barbarians were making trouble, their very nature was violent so that came as no surprise. He began to move towards them, he needed to restore order, it was his duty! Suddenly the water in front of him began to move, slowly forming a face, the face of Dr. Strange!
“Namor! I had sensed your return! You must come immediately!”
“Dr. Strange, I am wounded, and though my city is returned, it is in chaos. These people need their King and afterwards I will need rest!”
“Namor, I’m sorry to hear that but the fate of the world is at stake! Everything, including Atlantis might be gone by this time tomorrow! Are you willing to let that happen after going so far to restore it?!” If the face of water that spoke for him was any indication, Dr. Strange was in the most distress Namor had ever seen the magician show. With that in mind, Namor looked down at the people teaming through the city, some already starting to try and get a handle on things. Namor turned to Dorma, <“What was your position?”>
<“I was Queen…”>
<“Then these people will know and respond to you, try to restore order and I will be back as soon as time allows!”> With that, Namor took off, away from his newly restored home, battered with bones broken, rising towards the surface. He broke through and headed towards New York and within minutes it came into sight but what he saw stopped him in mid flight. Hundreds of strange ships sat in the air above New York and out over the sea, and the largest one hovering nearly a mile above the center of the city.
“After this, Strange,” Namor spoke to himself, “we’re even.”
Continued...