Aquaman: Shifting Tides

Beneath the deep blue hush of Atlantis, King Arthur moved through his kingdom as a servant to the people. The sea bent to his will, not in reverence, but in partnership. Colossal whales plowed the fertile sea beds, nurturing the city’s underwater farms, while crabs and bottom-feeders tidied the coral-covered streets, sweeping away debris like loyal street sweepers. The people thrived, Atlanteans and ocean dwellers working in tandem, a living testament to what harmony could look like beneath the waves. Inside the coral and gold throne room, currents whispered gently against marble columns as Queen Mera approached. Arthur rose to greet her, their eyes meeting with the kind of calm only true equals could share. “It’s working,” he said, pride brimming beneath his voice. “Atlantis is as efficient as ever.” Mera smiled, “Now since when do you care about efficiency?” “Oh, you know… I just, uh.” Arthur stammered. “I’m kidding,” Mera said, “The people are almost as lucky to have you as I am. Now come here.” Two then kiss.
From the high coral towers of the city gates, a ripple of tension spread like an unseen current. Atlantean guards peered out into the murky distance, eyes narrowing as a procession approached, elegant, armored, and unmistakably foreign. The clatter of seasteel boots echoed down the hallway as a herald announced the unexpected arrival of King Nereus of Xebel. With only a few elite soldiers flanking him, the imposing monarch was not alone. By his side stood his other daughter, Siren. Mera’s sister. Inside the grand hall, Nereus’s presence chilled the throne room like a sudden arctic draft. His words were clipped, his tone devoid of warmth. He spoke not to his daughter, but around her, as if the bond they once shared had long since eroded. “You were supposed to unite our kingdoms,” he said sharply, with the faintest sneer. Mera’s silence was its own blade, her gaze unyielding. The absence of Nereus at her wedding had been no mistake. That bridge was burned. Still, Nereus was here now, cloaking his ambition in civility. He offered once more the proposal to unify their underwater realms, an empire beneath the tides, strong and absolute. Arthur leaned forward, his answer calm but firm. He would not join them in their more radical vision for control. Nereus’s smile was cold and brittle. “A shame,” he said, voice like cracking ice. “This was my final offer.” He turned as if to leave, dismissing the court with a flick of his cape. But Siren remained behind. “Oh, I miss my dear sister,” she said, her voice like silk over broken glass. “Might I stay? Just for a visit?” Mera studied her, uncertain, but the longing in her sister’s eyes struck a chord. “Of course,” Mera said, though her tone carried the caution of someone who hadn’t forgotten how the tides could turn.
Later that evening, Mera and Siren walked together along a balcony overlooking the city. The tension from earlier had faded, replaced by something warm and familiar. Sisters, reunited. “So,” Mera began with a smirk, “is Father still as much of a hard-ass as he used to be?” Siren let out a breathy laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Worse, if you can believe it. He’s got this whole ‘I’m the last word on what’s best for the seas’ attitude now. You’d think ruling an entire kingdom already would’ve mellowed him out. But I wouldn’t worry aboy Dad. His bark has always been worse than his bite.” Mera chuckled, arms folded, “Well he does bark a lot.” “And what his bite?” Siren teased. “Still waiting to see it,” Mera replied with a grin. They both laughed, the sound dancing on the currents. The silence that followed was a comfortable one, until Siren nudged her sister with an elbow and said, “You really scored with the hot king of Atlantis, you know.” Mera rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Please. He’s the lucky one.” Siren smirked. “Hm, that boy. You sure about that?” “Absolutely,” Mera said with a hair toss, turning back toward the palace. “Don’t let the trident fool you. I wear the crown just as much as he does.”
Far across the vast undersea expanse, the waters darkened with the shadows of war. The once-tranquil kingdom of Tritonis, nestled within glimmering arches and shimmering bubble-domes, quaked as Nereus’s forces descended upon it in full force. From the trenches of Xebel surged battalions of armored warriors, tridents at the ready. And beside them, adding a primal toothy edge to the invasion, were the ferocious allies of the Shark Kingdom, led by none other than King Nanaue himself. Nanaue’s massive and fearsome frame tore through Tritonian defenses with a savage grin and blood in the water behind him. The Shark King’s warriors followed suit, a frenzy of muscle and jaws, tearing down the walls with unstoppable brute force. The merpeople of Tritonis fought valiantly, but they were not prepared for this level of coordinated brutality. Their weapons clattered against hardened Xebelite armor, their magic spells fizzled against the might of Nanaue’s warriors. It wasn’t just a skirmish, it was a message. In the chaos, beneath the din of battle cries and the haunting wails of Tritonian alarms, a figure darted through the collapsing streets, Lori Lemaris, a high-ranking mage of the kingdom. Her hair swirled like seaweed in the current, her face tight with urgency as she fled to the outer reef. There, waiting faithfully, was a sleek dolphin with intelligent eyes. “Flipper,” she whispered, breathless, pressing her hand to the dolphin’s snout, “go. Go to Atlantis. Tell them Tritonis needs their help. Now.” The dolphin chirped sharply, turned on a fin, and vanished into the open ocean, cutting through the water like a bolt of lightning, hope trailing behind him as fast as his tail could carry it.
Within the grand throne room of Atlantis, where pillars rose like kelp stalks, Aquaman stood deep in thought. At his side, Orm, his brother, now his closest advisor after the death of Vulko at the hands of Black Manta. The room was quiet, save for the occasional whoosh of distant currents. “I hear the people speak highly of you,” Orm said, “Even the crustiest of coral farmers are singing your praises.” Arthur shook his head with a modest smile. “Their praise is misplaced,” he said, voice low and honest. “They forget I’m just a guy who used to eat chili dogs in a lighthouse. You're the one who taught me how to live down here, to be more than a surface dweller with gills.” Orm chuckled. “You’re the king, Arthur. Whether you like it or not.” “I never could’ve done it without you,” Arthur said, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “The people’s love is belongs to you as well. You helped make this kingdom.” Just then, the peaceful moment was shattered by the rush of water and the frantic entry of Garth and Kaldur. Flipper zipped in behind them, clicking wildly. The urgency in their expressions told Arthur everything before they even spoke. “Tritonis is under attack,” Garth said, catching his breath. “It’s Nereus, and he’s not alone. King Shark is with him.” Arthur’s eyes scoweled firm, “So he’s made his move.” Without hesitation, he turned toward his men, already issuing orders. “Gather our forces. No time to waste. If they want war, we’ll show them what kind of king I am.” Orm moved to join him, grabbing his blade. “Then let me fight with you.” But Arthur held up a hand. “No. You’re staying here.” Orm protested, “I’m not some glorified steward. I can fight.” “You can,” Arthur nodded. “But you’re better at holding a kingdom together while the rest of us are out defending it. If something happens to me, Atlantis needs someone strong on the throne.” A heavy silence passed between them. Orm understood with a nod and Arthur swam toward his gathered warriors, ready to meet the tide of war.
Through the sapphire depths and into the war-torn trenches of Tritonis, the Atlantean vanguard surged forward like a tide of justice. Aquaman led the charge with his trident gleaming like a bolt of lightning. Beside him swam Mera, focused and commanding, her hydrokinesis already shaping spears of water around her like a queen preparing for judgment. Siren, cloaked in an uncertain loyalty, moved beside her sister, her eyes flicking toward the battlefield. The young warriors flanked their monarchs. Garth, Kaldur, and Tula moving as a unit, blades slicing and water bending with precision. The three of them moved in unison, demonstrating the time spent training together. Kaldur fought with a storm in his heart, though his battle calls at Tula went unanswered. Her eyes never meeting his, her cold shoulder sharper than any blade on the battlefield. Garth filled the silence with strength, holding their trio together as the hammer to Kaldur’s lightning and Tula’s ice. In the chaos, waves parted to reveal the towering menace of Nanaue, the Shark King, his gnarled teeth bared as he locked eyes with Aquaman. With a growl like an earthquake, he barreled forward. The two titans clashed in a violent ballet of fists and steel, Arthur’s trident clanging against Nanaue’s hide. Every blow was a tidal wave. Every grapple shook the surrounding coral to dust. Elsewhere, the royal sisters found themselves face-to-face with the storm behind this assault, Nereus. He raised his spear high, eyes narrowing at his daughters. “Stand down,” he boomed. “This doesn’t need to be your fight.” But it already was. Mera stood tall. “You’re tearing apart our world, Father.” And then Siren stepped forward, her voice quiet but firm. “You never saw me for who I am. Only who you wanted me to be.” She raised her weapon. “I choose Atlantis.”
A flash of disbelief flickered in Nereus’ eyes but it was drowned by the fury of battle all around them. The tide was turning. And blood, royal blood, was beginning to boil. Mera created a giant blue sea squid from magical energy and turled her father out of the city gates.
While the tides of battle crashed upon Tritonis, an unexpected storm brewed back in Atlantis. From the cold, shadowed northern reaches of the sea, Poseidonis surged forward, unleashing their own silent declaration of war on Nereus’ behalf. The invasion came like a thief in the night, quiet at first, then sudden and violent. Towers were shaken. Horns wailed like the song of dying whales. Orm stood at the gates, watching the first silhouettes emerge from the gloom, strange, hulking cephalopod-like warriors armed with barbed weapons and armor that shimmered like oil on the water. Without hesitation, he turned and marched into the heart of the city, slipping into his Ocean Master armor. Gone was the measured advisor. In his place stood something far more, Atlantis’ forgotten fury. He returned to the frontlines and barked orders to the stationed guards, calling for a phalanx to be formed, for the archers to take position, for the tide to be pushed back, but the soldiers hesitated. Their eyes searched for Arthur, their king. And in his absence, they faltered. Orm’s jaw tightened, a crack forming across his composure. “Your king is defending your allies with his life. He is not here!” he snarled. “While you cower here, waiting for his permission?” The soldiers exchanged unsure glances. That was all the spark Orm needed to ignite. He stepped forward, slamming his trident into the ground with a thundering shockwave. “If you won’t fight under the king’s orders, then hear mine. Fail me, and I will leave your corpses as barricades.” That got their attention. With fear now lighting the fire that loyalty could not, the troops rallied behind him. Orm led the charge into the northern corridors of Atlantis, trident clashing against the writhing limbs of the invading Poseidonian cephalopods. He moved like a blade through a current, deadly, controlled, unrelenting. The message was clear. Atlantis would not fall today. Not while Orm still drew breath.
When the battle at Tritonis ended in hard-won victory, the weary forces of Atlantis returned home expecting calm seas, but instead found their kingdom in ruin. The once-pristine spires of Atlantis being battered, scorched, and shattered. The scent of blood mixed with salt hung heavy in the water. The clash with Poseidonis still raged at the edges of the city, and their warriors were barely holding the line. Aquaman’s eyes widened at the devastation, his chest tightening. Without a word, he surged into the fray, joining the skirmish with renewed ferocity. Beside him, Mera and the others followed, channeling what energy remained to drive back the cephalopod invaders once and for all. It wasn’t a clean victory, but it was enough. Poseidonis withdrew, their retreat as sudden and sharp as their ambush. Once the fighting stopped, Aquaman stormed through the shattered throne hall, rubble floating like wreckage around him. He turned sharply to Orm, eyes burning. “How did this happen?” Orm, still clad in his Ocean Master armor and stained with battle, bristled, “How did it happen?” he snapped. “You were gone! Off saving other kingdoms while ours was left exposed!” His voice cracked with rage and something deeper, resentment. “Of course the tide only turns when the great Aquaman returns. Now the people will remember me not as the protector who held the line, but the placeholder who failed.” Arthur stepped forward, hands raised. “Orm, do not. That doesn’t matter. We’re alive. Atlantis stands because of you.” But Orm had already turned away, fists clenched. “You don’t get it, brother. You never did.” With a sharp twist, he vanished into the smoke-stained corridors, refusing to hear another word. Arthur made to follow, but a gentle hand touched his arm. Mera stood beside him, eyes heavy with understanding. “Let him go,” she said, “Look around you, Arthur. Your people need a king more now than a brother.” Arthur looked out over the wounded and weary Atlanteans, the crumbled monuments, and broken hearts. His jaw tightened. She was right. The time for chasing ghosts could wait. For now, the king must remain.
With the fractured city behind him and wounded hearts around him, Arthur walked alone and stood atop the coral dais of the Royal Court, surrounded by citizens in need of hope. His golden armor was scuffed, but his voice rose like the tide itself, clear, commanding, unyielding. “We have faced threats from without and within. We’ve fought for our allies, defended our home, and we are still standing!” His voice echoed through the wreckage, reaching even those who could barely lift their heads. “Atlantis endures. Because we do not break. We rise.” A rumble followed, tired, but enough. For now to quell their spirts. As the crowd began to scatter, bolstered by their king’s words, Siren slinked up beside him, her presence as smooth and serpentine as ever. “Well done, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice a purr beneath the sea. “Very stirring. You make leadership look... exciting.” Arthur offered a polite smile, but kept his eyes forward. “Is there something you need, Siren?” She leaned in closer. “Only you.” Before he could respond, she placed a hand on his chest, closing the space between them. Arthur instinctively stepped back, only to find her lips suddenly pressed to his. His arms went up in reflex to push her away, and that’s when Mera entered the corridor. Time froze. Her expression was not confusion or heartbreak, it was fury. Controlled, focused, queenly fury. Arthur turned to her immediately, hands out, voice frantic, “Mera, wait—she came onto me, I didn’t—” But Siren twisted her face into a mask of shocked innocence and gasped, “Arthur! I didn’t think you’d grab me like that!” Mera didn’t flinch. Her eyes, emerald fire, were locked not on Arthur, but on her sister. Her voice came low, sharp. “I always knew our father was shameless… but using you like this? That’s a new low.” Arthur blinked, confused, but Mera didn’t give him time to question it. She turned, rage and resolve in her every movement. “I’m going to Xebel,” she said. “You are pointless. I’ll deal with him myself.” Arthur reached for her arm. “Then I’m going with you—” “No.” Mera’s voice was iron. “Stay here. Your kingdom needs you. And this… this is my family’s mess to clean up.” And with a whirl of water, the Queen of Atlantis was gone.
The sharp current of Mera’s arrival sent ripples down the throne hall of Xebel. Soldiers flinched at her entrance—her red hair like fire through the ocean, her presence undeniable. She didn’t wait for formalities and marched right up to her father’s coral-carved throne. “Nereus,” she said, dropping the title like it tasted foul. “You’ve gone too far. First the alliance demands. Then the invasion. Now using Siren like a pawn? I’m not here to talk. I’m here to end this.” Nereus stood slowly, with all the theatrical grace of a man who’d rehearsed this moment. “My dear daughter. You’ve grown so dramatic. I suppose that’s what happens when you live too long among monarchs who dress like gladiators.” “I came to warn you,” Mera snapped. “Your next move will bring the wrath of Atlantis. MY people. And if you do not stay poised to remain on your throne, you will be removed from it.” “Oh, Mera.” His voice was so calm, so patient. “This is my next move.” Before she could react, the marble beneath her shifted. Ancient mechanisms clanked into motion, and a ring of golden light flared beneath her feet. A prison seal. An arcane trap etched into the floor. Mera’s body locked in place. Her limbs strained, struggling against the binding field. But she couldn’t break free. Nereus stepped down from his throne, standing before her like a priest at a ceremonial altar. “You’re still my daughter. I wish this could’ve been different. But you left me no choice.” Her eyes blazed with fury. “I will get out. And when I do, I’ll bring your whole empire down with me.” Nereus smiled, cold as the ocean floor. “Then I hope the accommodations suit you… Your Majesty.”
Arthur stood tall in the grand halls of Atlantis, shoulders stiff, jaw set like coral stone. The water around him shimmered with unease. He turned to Siren, who lounged against a column with the arrogance of someone who thought the game was already won. “You think your little trick rattled me?” Arthur snapped, “It didn’t. Whatever charade you pulled back there, whatever scheme your father whispered into your ear, it didn’t work.” Siren tilted her head, her expression cool and unbothered. “Trick? You mean reminding Mera what kind of man she married?” she said with a smirk, “Come now, Arthur. You should be thanking me. At least someone in this ocean still knows how to play the game.” He stepped closer, the anger in his eyes swimming just beneath the surface. “You’re being used. Your father doesn’t love you as he should, he wields you like a trident.” Siren scoffed, all elegance sharpened to a point, “Don’t speak to me of love. I care for loyalty. Mera lost hers the moment she stood against our father. He is the future. You? You’re a ripple in the tide. Soon to vanish.” “No,” Arthur said, calm but absolute, “He wants the sea to kneel, but there are Kingdoms that will never bow. The resistance will rise. And I won’t let you tear apart the world Mera and I fought to secure.” He turned from her, no longer interested in words.
He made his way to the central training dome where Garth, Tula, and Kaldur waited, eyes wide with pride feelings in his trainees. These weren’t children anymore. They were warriors. The future of Atlantis. “You’re in charge now,” Arthur told them. “You’ve trained for this. The people will need leaders while I’m gone, and I trust you to protect them.” Garth stepped forward, “Gone where?” “To Xebel,” Arthur answered, “But not directly. Nereus expects that. I’m gathering support from the outlying nations. I’ll travel through the outer ridges, into trenches and trade cities, and rally anyone who still believes in freedom. Tritonis will stand with us.” He placed a firm hand on Kaldur’s shoulder, “Keep the waters calm until I return.” Then Aquaman turned, ready to walk the long road through the currents of kingdoms untamed, ready to rise with an ocean behind him.
In Tritonis, Aquaman stood before the surviving leaders, still drained from the recent battle, but Arthur's resolve was undiminished, “We cannot win this alone,” he told them, his voice steady. “Nereus grows bold, and Atlantis won’t be the last. We need allies, more kingdoms, more strength.” The Tritonian elders exchanged weary glances, but after a moment, their nods came, firm and deliberate. “Then let’s gather those willing to fight,” one said. “We will stand beside you, King of Atlantis.” And so began the caravan, a proud yet battered procession of Atlantian and Tritonian warriors weaving through the vast blue stretches of the ocean floor, heading for the towering cliffs of the Brine Kingdom. The journey was long, winding past ancient wrecks and glowing trenches, a show of unity in the face of growing chaos. At the gates of the Brine Kingdom, a hush fell over the caravan. The briny air grew thick with tension as the great armored doors opened, revealing the Brine King himself, a hulking, barnacle-crusted monarch with eyes like black pearls and a voice that echoed with age. Arthur stepped forward, regal and respectful, “We seek your aid. Nereus seeks to dominate the oceans. He will not stop at Atlantis or Tritonis. The Brine Kingdom may think itself safe behind its walls, but no wall is high enough when the tide turns.” The Brine King regarded him coolly. “We are not aggressors. The Brine have endured because we do not meddle. Defense is our strength. Isolation, our wisdom. We will not fight your war.” Arthur clenched his jaw, trying once more. “This isn’t just my war. It’s all of ours. If Nereus wins, there will be no neutrality left.” The King turned his back, “Then we will endure, as we always have.” As the great gates closed, Arthur’s face hardened, his fists balling at his sides. The caravan turned, disappointed but undeterred. They would find allies elsewhere. Because the tide was still rising, and so too was the resistance.
When the caravan reached Lemuria, but the waters were stained with sorrow. Spires that once gleamed with light now lay fractured, their spires snapped like brittle reeds. Schools of fish darted in frightened circles, and the ruins bore the blackened scars of recent battle. It didn’t take long to piece together what happened, Xebel had already been here, and Lemuria had paid the price for defiance. Arthur swam ahead to the throne chamber, Lemuria’s queen sat amidst crumbled stone and shattered glass, the defiance still burning in her eyes. Her soldiers stood wounded but upright, armor scorched but spirits unbroken. “You stood tall against them,” Arthur said, gently. “And they tried to break you for it.” The queen’s voice was sharp, “They did.” Arthur stepped forward, voice rising just enough to carry weight. “Then help us make sure they never try again. Join us. Fight back. Three kingdoms standing together, Atlantis, Tritonis, and Lemuria can push back the tide.” She eyed him with a tired gaze, the silence hanging between them like the stillness before a storm. “And if we fall again?” “Then we fall together,” Arthur said. “But not without giving them hell.” A breath passed. Finally, she stood, brushing the dust from her clad shoulders. “Lemuria will stand with you, Aquaman.” Arthur nodded, and the gathered warriors of all three kingdoms raised their tridents. A new alliance had been forged in the ashes of ruin, and the march to Xebel would begin with thunder.
The coalition’s arrival at the gates of Xebel struck like a tremor through the deep. The waters around Nereus’s castle churned with tension, the assembled armies of Atlantis, Tritonis, and Lemuria pressing forward in formation. Awaiting them was a phalanx of Nereus’s remaining forces, loyalist Xebel soldiers, a swarm of shark warriors, and eerie cephalopod creatures with glimmering eyes and ink-dark armor. No words were exchanged. Only war cries and the clash of tridents. Tritonis warriors surged forward to meet their ancient rivals, the Shark Kingdom, fins slicing through water like blades. Lemurians, armored in volcanic obsidian, clashed with Poseidonus deserters still under Nereus’s influence. Amid the chaos, a glowing wake cut through the battlefield, Arthur blazing forward with fury and focus. He crashed through the throne room gates like a tidal wave, sending two guards sprawling. There on the stoop sat Nereus, waiting, trident in hand and a cold sneer on his face. “You would bring the ocean down on me, just for your queen?” “For my people. For all under the ocean!” Arthur snapped, and their tridents collided like thunder underwater. The duel was brutal. Elegant sweeps of royal technique clashed with raw, earth-born power. Nereus fought with fury, but Arthur fought with purpose. As Arthur and Nereus traded blows, the force of their clashing tridents shattered part of the coral dais, just enough for Mera to surge forward, shattering her bonds with a focused blast of hydrokinetic force. Water spiraled around her like a storm reborn. She has joined the battle. With each blow, Arthur pressed closer, until a sweeping strike disarmed Nereus and sent him crashing down beside the throne. Arthur stood above the fallen king, trident at Nereus’s throat. His voice, steady and grim, echoed through the chamber, “I should kill you. After all you’ve done, I’d be justified. But here’s your final warning. Try to conquer again, try to raise your banners through force again—and I won’t stop next time.” Nereus, beaten and bloodied, stared into Arthur’s burning eyes. With no army, no leverage, and no more pride to spare, he dropped his head in bitter defeat. “I submit,” he growled, “There will be no more,” his voice low hung. The tides had shifted. Xebel had fallen.
Back in Atlantis, the seas shimmered with joy and song. Aquaman and Mera returned to a city reborn in celebration, their people gathered cheering in the streets for their king and queen with unshakable pride. Flags fluttered from every tower, and even the sea creatures joined the revelry, schools of fish forming patterns in the water, whales letting out melodic calls that echoed through the capital’s streets. But away from the joyous tide, perched on a shadowed cliff outcrop overlooking the city, Orm watched in silence. His jaw clenched. His fists tightened. The cheers stung. The sight of his brother praised as the savior of the seven seas while his own efforts were forgotten burned hot in his chest. He had shed blood for Atlantis. And still… still they looked to Arthur. He couldn’t bear it anymore. Something inside him that had always been there. That spiteful seed that had been long plotting. If they wanted a king, they’d get one. Orm’s jaw relaxed into a pleasant smile as he turned from the overlook, slipping back into the city’s heart. As he approached Arthur, arms wide, his face a mask of joy, he embraced his brother with all the warmth a lie could hold. Arthur pulled him in, grateful, unaware. “Oh, brother I am so glad you have returned. Thank you, Orm. I couldn’t have done this without you.” Orm chuckled, the sound rich and hollow. “No need to thank me, brother,” he whispered, a glint of promise in his eye. “I’ll repay your great triumphs… soon enough.”

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