Ah, the Gulf of Mexico at night. There's nothing like it. In many spots, you can't tell that this is just a gulf, and not the whole damn Atlantic...
Throughout, there are oil rigs. From them, Roxxon makes a shitload of money...as they usually do from many other semi-related industries.
From over the horizon, the full moon rises. It is now officially a beautiful night out here...for anyone who isn't lost.
From the depths, atlantean females surface, with their arms raised. Their eyes are closed. They lower their arms, and smile.
All around, others straggle. At long last, the bachelorette group is all here. And it is a very generous bachelorette group...
Once they're assembled, they start chanting. It's some of the best music that Roxxon will never hear.
Ah, feel the light
From high above, it shines
It basks us in bliss like we've never known
It's easier on the eyes than the sun
What is this I feel, when it rises?
A sudden surge to express my night self?
The sacred halls of solitude I keep secluded
I am suddenly tempted to divulge
Humanity has liquor for that sort of thing
With it, they can feel the full moon all year
Lest they become drunks, and they soon need AA
But then, what's the moon to them, if not a once-a-month fling?
I know what you would say; once a month is for menstruation
But only so many women have their periods at the full moon
How can they? They were born on different dates.
As start their respective puberties
Ah, the gulf's waves can only amplify how we feel
Up and down, gently as a mother, they rock us
We are far from any harm
Or, so we feel...
The security is like bliss
Human men don't get this in Syria
Never more again, will most of them
Governments don't waste money on them, while they're at war
Money can't buy how we feel now
All we've got to do is come up, from Sweet Home Atlantis
To think that we'd rather be here, than diving for gold or pearls
Is something that SHOULD inspire spoiled human girl brats more often...
It's some lovely chanting. Alas, as you might expect, there are others beneath the waves, who'd dare plot against them...
Twenty thousand leagues under the gulf... Okay, fine; they're not THAT deep; that's just an expression. Under the shadowy sea, a submarine emerges into view. Its cast iron hull is bulky. To either side, its screws propel it. It's got big letters on its sides, that say one word: ROXXON.
Some of the crew is Roxxon, in fact. But there are also Maggia, Reavers, Zodiac, Frightful Four, and Strikeforce BERSERKER personnel crewing this submarining vessel.
Some would expect the full moon to raise them from the depths, as the same does with the tide, at sea, twice a day... Alas, if this crew is aware of the full moon that's out tonight... Well actually, most of them are VERY aware of it. And hence, it's a miracle the quartermaster can even steer the submarine.
The QM just so happens to be Capricorn Dark...of Zodiac. He's got a bit of tolerance for the ruckus that happens aboard this ship...but only because he knows what it's like to start something one can't finish.
Without the tide, the submarine surfaces. Its top hatch opens. Villains, from all six groupings, come up topside.
From Zodiac, Cancer of Light, Cancer Dark, Pisces of Light, Pisces Dark, Scorpio, Capricorn Dark, Capricorn of Light, and Libra all wear diving gear, and dive off the port side, into the deep. Aries stays aboard. He's not really a water sign...or a mutable one, even... THAT would be the two Pisceans...
From Strikeforce BERSERKER, there are a few hvítálfar and ljósálfar...from Alfheim. They're all a little ale-drunk...but otherwise in perfect condition for a little swim through the Gulf.
From the Reavers, Wade Cole and Pretty Boy both abandon ship. Before they both do so, though, they replace some of their prosthetics with water-propelling ones...as well as underwater weaponry ones.
From the Maggia, Eel, Madame Masque, Mysterio, and Silvermane all leap overboard. Silvermane replaces some of his prosthetics with water-propelling ones...as the Reavers have. Madame Masque puts on a special mask that transforms her into Lady Poseidon, a sea goddess. Mysterio deploys a lot of submersibles, before diving in...
From the Frightful Four, Wizard, Tina Minoru, Taskmaster, Llyra, Hydro-Man, Electro, and Brute all dive in. Ms. Minoru transforms herself into a mermaid with a black tail, via the Staff of One, before diving in. With the shapeshifting factor of his elasticity, Brute transforms into a hammerhead shark, and flips overboard. Wizard's made some tech, that'll aid him in his...unusual undersea exploits. Taskmaster mimics the abilities of Namor the Sub-Mariner, while doing this... (Not the water-breathing, but everything else...little wings on ankles not withstanding...)
From Roxxon, Saboteur, Modular Man, Ivan Hess, Mad Dog, Ghost, and Coldblood all set out. They will gladly supervise this mass money-making effort, on their precious Roxxon's behalf...
Now, the full moon's in the center of the sky. And hence, all tides on all the shores of the world are at their zenith.
Under it all, the atlantean women still sing. They're having a ball. They're all so sad it'll have to end, before the night even does...
Among their rears and legs, beneath the waves, Mysterio's submersibles take their places. With deviousness, they simulate an alternate reality...
From behind one of them, Pretty Boy surfaces. He places his manly prosthetic hands on her bare shoulders, and drums them there...
"Come down, my love," he hisses, in her ear, "and I'll show you one of the BEST times Atlantis never will..."
In a trance, the atlantean obeys Pretty Boy's command. Once she does, she's lost in Mysterio's illusion.
From far away, distorted by the sea water's movements, a black shadowy figure watches, with moon-lit eyes. A cloak of darkness appears to surround her...as do many scarves of black and silvery-grey. In any other situation, she would look like a ronin. Then again, if anyone could see her, they'd have to confess that she does, in fact, look like the submarine, mystical version of a ronin...
In Mysterio's illusion, the Earth is flooded. There's nobody but atlanteans and lemurians inhabiting the planet.
All around, the coral grows like flowers. Butterfly fish and angel fish swim here and there...along with many other gorgeous fish.
Pygmy seahorses head-butt one another, within the coral. Neither one does much damage...but then, this is what an atlantean's utopian vision looks like...
Here and there, reef frequenters "swim their sharks." (The human equivalent of this idiom is "walk their dogs," of course.) All the sharks are domesticated...as are the jellyfish, and other hazardous species.
Far away, some atlantean kids play water polo...with an inflated puffer, in lieu of a ball. The puffer's spines have been blunted, and his venom has been antidote-inoculated.
All around the poor atlantean chick, male atlanteans swim around, flirtateously. They're courting her. Ah, how she loves all this...
High above, she sees her sisters...up there, singing to the moon, as if they didn't know all of this was down here. She shouts up at them, and begs for them to join her. Alas, they don't seem to hear her. So, she starts to swim up, towards them...
Outside the illusion, Eel, disguised as a garden eel in Mysterio's illusion, swims towards her leg. He's going to bite it, and sedate her with a serum replica of Mysterio's vision...which she'll resume dreaming, as soon as she passes out...
Alas, Eel freezes, as a strange feeling comes over him. His jaws are open. Her leg is within reach. And yet...
Twin katana blades later, Eel's been decapitated. All around, everyone else on Mysterio's team hasn't suspected a thing.
Ronin's going to save Mysterio for last. She'd hate for the atlantean women to see most of this...
Above, they keep singing. Down here, the atlantean is still lost in the vision. With luck, Ronin can finish before Mysterio's tempted to de-activate the illusion...
One by one, emitting silvery moonlight in her wake, Ronin draws her katanas, and butchers everyone who doesn't swim away...who's not an atlantean female.
She kills Silvermane, with her katanas. She kills Brute. She kills Wizard. She kills Wade Cole. She kills Libra. She kills Cancer of Light. She kills at least three hvítálfar, and at least three ljósálfar. She kills Modular Man. She kills Ivan Hess...
She stops behind Mysterio, and crosses her katanas in front of his throat. All around, the rest of the shark pack freezes.
Within the illusion, the male atlanteans are distracted, looking off in the distance...at something their would-be victim can't see. She seems confused. She keeps trading looks between these hot dudes, and her sisters way up there, somehow not noticing the wonderful world that there is down here... She's wondering if Earth's getting invaded by extraterrestrials...
Back out there, Ronin has fixed up a standoff. She doesn't yield; neither does the shark pack.
"Leave," her moony voice hoots, throughout the sea. "Or your Master of Dreams will lose his head!" A long pause follows. "I'VE ALREADY LOST MINE!"
In a flash, the shark pack leaves. Only the atlantean chicks remain.
"Now," Ronin hoots, keeping the katanas where they are, "de-activate your vision. LET...HER...GO!"
Mysterio nods, and turns a pair of switches on his belt. He puts up an emergency cloaking device around him and Ronin, so the waking atlantean won't see them.
"Good boy," Ronin croons. "Now...you have an hour to leave. If you are not gone by then, you will join fifteen of your late comrades in the afterlife. And I DON'T mean Alfheim...as much as I'd rather."
Mysterio nods. Ronin smiles, and un-crosses the katanas. Keeping the cloak around himself, Mysterio swims away.
Nearby, the atlantean girl seems confused. Nonetheless, she rejoins her sisters at the surface.
The moon's almost set. It's just about time for everyone here to get going.
Like an underwater wraith, Ronin swims back to where she comes from. Or rather, she swims somewhere where she can rest.
Out here, that happens to be a Roxxon oil rig. In the sky, the full moon has just about set...and will begin darkening, starting tomorrow night...
Ronin breaches, and flies around the rig, like a streaming black-and-silver comet. Sometimes, she just can't help but admire herself. On the rig, nobody seems to see her...
Within the tower, she settles down, and materializes into herself. She stands on a crossed bar, high above the gulf surface, looking down on a great height. She wears no shoes.
She peels her hood back...revealing the face of Qamra Spector. In the Ultimate Marvel universe, she's also been known as Moon Knight, Paladin, Stefani Grant, and Blondie...with the last of which being the least merited of them all. She is a Jew, after all...
Qamra would pat herself on the back...if this Ronin costume wasn't so darn tight around her. Even so, she's kept a bunch of mercs from getting paid to kidnap a poor helpless little atlantean girl...assuming they would've stopped at just one. Alas, Qamra's PRETTY sure they won't stop. Nope; as long as there is money, there will be other attempts. At least in the meantime, Qamra can make sure that that money won't be Roxxon's.
The last flicker of moonlight vanishes, over the horizon. Once again, it's pitch black over the Gulf of Mexico.
From the sky, fifteen red comets fall; funeral candles, for the fifteen villains who've been slain tonight. Qamra only smiles, sadly. At least those aren't funeral candles for atlantean girls...or ronins...