Chapter 406

"Death-Nothing-Bad Luck"

Atlantis

Modern day

"Four-zero-six, eh?" Nikki quipped at the sight of the numerals to begin the next chapter of SWORDS.

Ash shook his head with a placid grin on his face, "We just love breaking the fourth wall don't we?"

"Pi-ka," the mouse nodded in agreement.

"For real," Nikki chuckled as the Atlantic sun rolled behind a pillow of clouds, "It should be a drinking game at this point."

"So what do you think it means," Ash scratched his head, "the four-zero-six, I mean?"

"It's a play on the author's multicultural life experiences and a remix of yakuza." Nikki explained, "ya see, yakuza comes from a card game. 8,9,3 which is a bad hand to have in a game of cards. In the Japanese culture, the number 4 brings about bad luck. In our American culture, the number 6 means bad luck. Zero means nothing. So the 4 in Japanese translates to Shi, or death. The six in our culture means devil or bad luck. The zero is nothing."

"Ahh," Ash nodded, "Now I get it. But why would the writer position Biden on the left, under death, and Trump under bad luck?"

Nikki shrugged, "I'm sure the has a reason for it."

"Hmmm," Ash scratched his chin, "So, the swords are about to meet the most powerful men in America. The cult of Trump all over again and the new president."

Nikki interlaced her fingers behind her dark brunette locks and snapback cap, "Yup. Well, there are a lot of ways this can go. That's a lot of different personalities."

"Yeah, it is." Ash nodded.

"And," Nikki turned to Ash, "There's also you too." She winked.

"Me?"

"You are a Sword." Nikki reminded, "You have a say in all of this too."

Ash exhaled, "But, what does everyone expect me to say. I hate politics. I don't know anything about politics."

"Well," Nikki shrugged, "You better start learning and fast."

USS Mount Whitney

Modern day

Within the steel superstructure, President Biden nodded a "thank you," to the intelligence team before striding out of the war room and clumsily navigating his way through the tilting-and-turning naval vessel. Hopefully, his gesture of riding a ship to Atlantis would be well received by the Swords.

Why a ship?

Why not arrive by air using the Air Force One?

Because it was a calculated gesture. Prince, the eldest of the Swords had served many years in the Navy. A president that rides a ship versus the quicker, easier mode of air would be a symbol of change to Prince, possibly.

However, arriving with an entire fleet of ships behind him would not be seen as a gesture of peace. In light of the various missing NATO Recon teams that were sent in, national security was not willing to risk the life of the leader of the free world. There was no way they were allowing the president to embark on Atlantis unprotected.

The surfacing of Atlantis had created a new realm of global politics. There were teams of scientists around the world all salivating for the opportunity to study Atlantis. There were also scores of investors ready to build hotels and condos on the island and transform into a vacation resort.

Before any of those things could transpire, ownership of the islands had to be assigned. A few newspapers around the country had published various articles such as "Finders Keepers", which stated that since the Swords were Americans and had caused the island to surface and were the only known people alive on the island, that the island should be declared U.S. territory.

Then, there were others that measured its distance from other surrounding countries that claimed it should be a part of France, Greece, Canada, Morocco and several other West African countries.

There were also pockets of individuals that believed Atlantis should belong to no country. That it should be its own sovereign territory.

Several Pokemon researchers noted that a few wild pokemon species were migrating towards the island. This created a vast multitude of theories. Some believed Atlantis could possibly have surfaced as a result of the meteor's impact. Like a loose tooth in a child's mouth. The meteor's impact had shaken the Earth in some way and over time jilted the tooth looser until it finally came out.

There were several anti-Pokemon individuals who desired to segregate all pokemon from humanity. They wanted Pokemon to be rounded up and shipped to Atlantis.

President Biden hadn't ruled out any theories or ignored any idea. All he knew was that whatever was going on with Atlantis, the Swords were connected.

The Swords had gone dark for quite some time. There'd been no movement in their bank accounts, online data or any sign that they were even alive. All they had was blurry satellite imagery that painted a picture of various individuals roaming the island with pokemon that were very similar to the pokemon that the swords owned.

What if the Swords weren't on the island at all? Then what?

And there was also another cog in the machine. The Galeos. Even after losing the election, Trump had refused to surrender the Galeos. Showing bank records of payment and a deed of ownership in which now Trump's company had somehow mysteriously purchased the clandestine airship.

Had Trump already found a way to get onboard Atlantis? And if he had, how much more difficult and hairy would that make the situation with the UN?

The voter fraud claims were already annoying but what would happen if the press or media found evidence of Trump as the first man on Atlantis. In what ways would that fire up his supporters? Would Republicans grow legs and demand the island as a US territory. And yet another crux would further divide the country?

(It might be best to talk with each of the swords separately.) Biden realized. (Talking to them as a collective? There's far too many of them. Too many personalities in one room.)

There was no telling how it would transpire. He could plan to talk to them individually but be forced to speak to them as a group.

Suddenly, there was a loud metallic groan that shook the ship. A sudden tremor that caused the president to nearly lose his balance.

Then, bells and whistles blared over the 1MC as various warnings and instructions were shouted over the intercom.

The door opened, and the stateroom was filled with secret service agents.

Something was happening with the ship.

Over the chiming bells and commotion, one of the ships' commanders entered the room and said, "Sir, there's something you need to see."

Deck of the USS Mount Whitney

Guarded closely at every turn, they traversed the ship, passing dozens of sailors decked out in flash gear as the ship entered battle stations.

The tilt-and-twirling of the ship had completely ceased. The ship was completely flat and not moving at all as they progressed through the steel innards of the flag ship.

Finally, they were on the bridge and through the glass they stared at an ethereal violet haze with jade-green slits here-and-there.

"All comms and systems are down, sir. We're dead in the water." The coxswain reported.

"What the hell are dealing with?" The admiral grimaced.

"Sir," A commander stepped forward, "we've encountered a very powerful ghost pokemon. Not much is known about it. Our team however was able to use acoustics to pick up its name. Spiritomb, it's what it kept repeating."

Suddenly, violet smoke began to invade the ship.

"Gas! Gas! Gas!" Was shouted over the 1MC.

"How?!" One voice shouted. "All the airtight doors are shut!"

The intelligence commander shook its head, fear in his eyes, "It's a ghost pokemon. It can penetrate surfaces because it's a ghost."

One by one, everyone dove for gas masks. Gripping the spiderweb of Velcro, throwing them over their heads and screwing in an oxygen canister as quickly as possible, but it was to no avail.

Ghosts moved through physical surfaces. The flesh-and-bone of their bodies, the plastic of the mask, the steel hull of the ship could not stop the Spiritomb from whatever it wanted to do.

"Mr. Preside-" everyone turned before slumping forward and collapsing onto the deck. Biden scrambled around in fear. Everything he wished he'd done fired through his mind. Holding and kissing his wife a minute longer, lessons he should have taught his children, policies he could've implemented faster to push America in the direction it needed to go, things he should've said, then—

("Joseph…") A dark voice whispered in his mind.

The president blinked.

("We will test you.") A maelstrom of voices whispered. ("We will test your soul. Only certain souls may enter Atlantis.")

Suddenly, Biden felt a strange pressure behind his eyebrows. As if the purple haze he'd breathed in was softly knocking on his skull. Then, the pressure traveled down his nostrils, then his esophagus before finally dropping into his stomach and released into a shower of warm raindrops.

("The power of Atlantis, you do not seek it.") The voices whispered. ("You are truly just curious. Very curious.")

Biden blinked, he thought to himself, ("Are you the pokemon? Spiritomb?)

The voices replied, ("We are Spiritomb. Your soul is distorted but your intentions are clear. Your crew's intentions are clear.")

Biden blinked, ("What comes next?")

("You may enter. Enter. Your crew however, may not.") The voices responded.

Then, the purple fog was pierced by a dark vortex.

("You seek The Pharaohs. Your intentions are clear. Enter.") The voices coached, ("Or…"), offering an alternative, ("Die.")

President Biden saw no other means. It could be a trap. Still, if the pokemon had enough power to stop the currents of water and a warship from moving and everything else it was doing, it would be best to not test the monster.

"Okay." Biden agreed, "It's alright," Raising his hands in submission and slowly stepping into the vortex.

Could the Spiritomb have been controlled by the Swords? Were they reaching out to him to try to control something within the United States? They had gotten one of their members pardoned from jail as a favor from Obama. Were they using the pokemon to garner special favors?

Or was the pokemon independent and acting on its own? But why would it do that?

It addressed the swords as pharaohs. What could that mean? So many questions filled Biden's mind as he stepped into the portal.

Then, it felt like an invisible fish hook had been jammed into his navel. The world around him rocketed past in a blur of colors before slowing to a stop.

He felt a soft pinch near his belly button. And after a sharp sneeze, he stood on land. The sun was gone. It was still dark. The environment before his eyes resembled a school. Under the darkness, the ruins seemed haunted.

He stood in the courtyard. There was a battle-scarred playground that looked as if a small war had just been fought there and a swimming pool a baseball field's distance away.

(Are they inside?) Biden wondered. He strode to the double doors atop a small set of stairs and pushed them open.

"Hello!" He called as he strode through the halls of the ancient school. He wandered for only a minute until he finally opened the doors of the funnel-like auditorium.

On the ground of the auditorium, a map had been painted. Of what? He had no idea. It was a strong enough clue that someone had been in this auditorium not long ago.

Would they be back?

There was also a portrait of Nikki Bella, whom he'd been briefed on because of her connection to Larrell, on the ground.

("I wonder what's going on?") Biden thought.

There were also sketches of others on the ground. It was difficult for him to remember each of their names.

("I guess I'll just wait here.") Biden thought.

The president didn't sleep. He merely thought long and hard about what questions he would ask. There was no point wondering what if or if the Spiritomb had led him down a dark path of betrayal. He'd made his decision to not test the Spiritomb's threat and entered the portal, and here he was now.

As the sun began to slowly rise, footsteps filled the school.

("They're here.") Biden stood at the center of the auditorium waiting.