Marching is a long, droning thing - the sound imbedded into every child of
the last century, put into their minds as a frightful symbol of some
impending, unstoppable evil. Atlantis' great halls knew the sound well, but
there it had always been a sound of joy. When the soldiers were marching,
orderly, through her maze-like corridors, peace had reigned. If a soldier
had time to place his steps, there was also time to laugh and play and
live. Now the great city shuddered at the approaching thunder. Thousands of
footsteps, unnaturally slow in the depths, grew louder by the moment.
On the outskirts of the city, like some great chieftess of old, Namorita commanded the mighty Atlantian army. She was strong there, unbreakable. She seemed the only sane in a litteral sea of insane. The army, down to the very Royal Guard had been secured out along the lines. But they were not prepared for battle - most were young, teens barely old enough to go on a tuna hunt that had signed up for millitary duty to be done with their required service. The Guard... it seemed to the princess that the Guard had lost many of its number in a very short span of time. They were still few, even so. Nothing seemed to be going right, yet the royal stood her ground. She had said she could hold off the Humans. She would. She had to. Until Namor returned.
Nita sighed and looked up, towards the surface. The sun shone very dimly, a simple dot in the dark waters. But it had made its cycle and come again... So where was Namor?
-
Two armies clashed. Simple, in a way. Two opposing currents meeting. But it wasn't simple.
The deadly thunder came closer. Atlantian troops found themselves dealing with more than just the oncoming storm. Beasts of burden started at the noise. Several holding precious cannon shot ran off, wild and loose from their reigns. Young, untrained soldiers froze, unable to lift their weapons. Others simply fell to their knees in prayer. More still were overcome with the true weight of the battle they now fought - before, they had fought for Atlantis, now they fought for their very race.
The first line of Humans came through the dim, fog-like atmosphere. They were armored from head to toe, carrying modified rifles topped with bayonets. They moved slowly, almost comically along the ocean bottom. But their eyes... their eyes held no humor. They were full of young, offended fury. Of fear and anger and of being wronged in a way they really didn't understand. They were confused. But any Atlantian knew that a confused shark is always the most dangerous.
The defending army readied.
Two opposing currents met.
And a storm was born.
-
Amid the ruins of a long-fallen temple, Namor stood alone. In his hand he held a single seaweed bulb, his gift from the immortal Posiedon. He had but to work its magic inside of glorious Atlantis to save her, bless her forever... He closed his fingers around it. Yes, he would gladly give up his very kingdom, if only to preserve her, to preserve his people...
A strong rope landed about his shoulders. The prince looked down in suprise, unsure of what he saw. The rope tightened before he could react. It pulled him hard towards razor-sharp coral, slamming him against it, shattering the delicate structure and slicing a fair gash in his forehead*. Blood pooled in the water near him. He now acted much quicker, pulling back on the strangely metallic-looking rope with his great strength. It pulled through a fissue in the coral, hissing terribly, until a figure smashed through. A torn and bloodied body flew into a fallen column with a sickening smack. Namor threw the rope from about his neck with a snarl. "Who dares-- ?" He began, but more ropes landed apon him, pulled at him like a rag doll. Several more bodies, some conscious and some not, landed against various rock and coral faces. But there were still more of the metal ropes. They tangled about him, making even removing them difficult. He roared, struggling, but they did not break.
"Don't bother," a voice from behind him said, even as more ropes came apon him, forcing the prince to his knees, "they're made of adamantium. It's indestructable, as I'm sure you know."
Namor turned. There, beside the broken coral, stood an Atlantian man, dressed in a very modified royal officer's uniform. He didn't have the typical ray gun or trident of an officer, but an American underwater machine gun at his hip. This he happily pointed at the monarch. "You... attack me? Who are you that would do this treasonous act?" Namor spoke behind well-clenched teeth, "You are of a kind to those who now give their lives for their city! How can you forsake her? Is she not yours as well?"
"Mine?" The Atlantian laughed, "Yes, Atlantis will be mine, you fool. I am Merric, the future king of the golden halls! And you... you are nothing anymore." The machine gun was cocked and raised at the prince. Namor clenched his teeth. He knew well the bullets would do little... but madmen, for it was plain that this was indeed a madman, acted on impulse alone. He had been called mad several times, but no... he thought things out. With speed that the other could not track, he grabbed a splinter of sharp coral in his mostly-free hand and threw it at Merric. It sliced through his neck, cutting the blood-rich gills to shreds. The former Guardsman let out a howl, grasping his neck as his bright red blood spilled out into the surrounding waters.
Namor grinned slightly from the ground, "You have forgotten something that should have been burned into you as a pup, Merric--"
A large shark grabbed the bleeding Atlantian around the shoulder, picking him up off the ocean floor.
"--blood brings sharks."
Namor did not watch the beasts devour him. Instead, he turned to freeing himself, and to the sand. He ran his fingers through it, searching... He pulled up the bulb. It was warm, calming, even. He stood there, only for a moment, and thought of his city. Then, as swift as any other creature of the deep, he was gone.
-
The armies, for all their differences, were evenly matched. The Humans were slow to react, and though they had superior weaponry, the Atlantians were swift and aimed their tridents well. A hard jab or knock and the Humans' air tanks ruptured. The resulting explosion would not only make its' owner unable to fight, but quite possibly send several other members of the Humans' close-packed ranks sprawling across the sandy floor. For this, the Atlantians held their ground. But the army was not the only danger. Ships from above rained down depth charges that hit anything in their path. Millitary dugouts and civilian homes alike were blown apart. It also served to scatter the already panicked undersea forces and to further agitate the land-sent army. Atlantian field commanders tried their best to keep their charges in line. Frightened Humans of many nations ignored their radio- beamed orders and swam up to the surface. Chaos.
Nita swam along the battle lines, offering words of encouragement where she could, trying to keep the spirits up until the prince arrived. She was not greeted enthusiastically - to any Atlantian general, field officer, or soldier, "holding the line" is one step away from defeat. And, it seemed, that the swarm of Humans saw no end. Their ranks dissapeared into the mists, their number immeasurable. She wanted very badly to take action as her cousin would, to fly above the ships dropping their deadly cargo and to drop down apon them, ripping steel and iron and ending their destruction. But Vashti had told her to stay her ground. The soldiers needed to see their princess there, needed hope that they could win. She turned suddenly as a cheer went up from the Atlantian lines. They had pushed back the Humans ever so slightly, but that was enough.
The joy was short lived. The line broke just in front of Nita, Human troops rushing clumsily in. She swam at them, sending as many back as she could. Confused, she then swam up to see what had happened. She didn't believe her eyes. No, she couldn't believe it. Atlantians, nearly two hundred fully armed Royal Guardsmen had now joined the fray... on the side of the Humans.
The lines fell back. The Atlantians were confused and tired, and now began to doubt their place. A break in the line formed, and then another. Humans flowed inward in their slow, loping way. Atlantians followed. The lines that had once been held were now scattered masses of soldiers, huddled in tight balls and unable to fight.
Nita swallowed hard. 'No,' she thought, 'this can't be...'
"Atlantis is lost."
"...so quick to condemn, little cousin?"
Nita's head shot up. There, floating just beside her in the oddly serine current, was Namor. And, strange as it was, he was smiling. "Namor! You're back! I- I think..."
"Think nothing for now. Only make way to the palace, for the gods have given great Atlantis a gift."
Namor entered the throneroom slowly, seemingly seeing it for the first time, his eyes open to behold a wonder unknown to mortals. Nita watched him, curious of his strange manner and single, closed fist. She put a hand to his shoulder. He turned to her, a sad smile on his face. "I will miss this."
Nita was confused, "Miss what?"
"Atlantis. My people." He kissed her lightly on the forehead, "Family."
"I... don't understand."
Namor turned to the destruction outside, to the advancing Human troops. "You don't have to. Not yet." The Humans had reached the palace gates. "Know, though you are young, you will lead Atlantis as a fine Queen. You proved that today, as you have proved it in the past."
Still, confusion, "I let Atlantis down! Look! The surfacemen have WON!"
The Prince saw the gate come down, but simply smiled at his cousin. "If not for you, Atlantis would not have made it this far." He took her hand in his, opening his clenched fist into hers. A warmth filled them both. "I will contact you and tell you what has happened today, but not now. Farewell cousin! Rule well!"
As a blinding light filled the room, Namor swam away as fast as he could.
Humans reaching for the door to the throneroom were pulled back by some unknown force. Fighters down below were forced apart, the Humans dragged, unwilling, out of the city. Depth charges stopped in their decent and reversed direction, returning ot the ships which deployed them. Within a matter of minutes, only Atlantians were left in the streets. And, as they came out of their broken homes, the mud and stone and shell began to repair itself. Atlantis was whole again.
Within a day, all was returned to normal. Dead no longer lay dead, on either side, and it was as if no battle had occured at all. Atlantians rejoiced in the streets, out in front of the palace gates, now upright once more. They had no fear of the Humans who awoke just outside of the city. No creature, be he man, beast, or god, could now enter the fair city with evil in his heart.
-
Namor found himself sitting in a New York diner, watching the news of Atlantis on the overhead TV. Though he'd never see her again, Atlantis was safe, now and forever. That's all he'd ever wanted. Somehow, it had lifted a great weight off his shoulders. Just knowing that the golden halls would lay untouched, that his people would never have to fear another threat against them... He smiled.
Still, his business on the land lay unfinished. He had saved his people, and now it seemed, he turned to save another. The Americans still looked to their false god, their idol, Aeyson, to lead them. Namor had seen how easily they had been swayed to war - how long would it be until they were swayed to something much worse?
-
The End?
Not by a long shot!
Author's Notes: Well, ladies and gents (mostly just "gent", hey Mark!), Long Live is finally "done". But its' companion, and a way to tie up all these beautifully frayed loose ends, will come soon in the form of "White Knight". That would be the entire shinanigan from Jim Hammond's (The Original Human Torch) point of view. It'll cover Thane's assistant, happenings in post-Long Live Atlantis, and hopefully give a smoother transition into a planned series. (Yeah, yeah, I know - I can't even keep a story up, and I want to do a series...) Not to mention a whole lotta Torchy goodness! Mmm, android!
More Author's Notes: Did ya' notice that little "*" up there? Yeah, that one. Okay, I figured something... Namor isn't hurt by bullets because they're too blunt to peirce his skin. However, something as thin as a razor (like coral) could manage to cut him, though not deeply. Just to clear that up. ^_^
On the outskirts of the city, like some great chieftess of old, Namorita commanded the mighty Atlantian army. She was strong there, unbreakable. She seemed the only sane in a litteral sea of insane. The army, down to the very Royal Guard had been secured out along the lines. But they were not prepared for battle - most were young, teens barely old enough to go on a tuna hunt that had signed up for millitary duty to be done with their required service. The Guard... it seemed to the princess that the Guard had lost many of its number in a very short span of time. They were still few, even so. Nothing seemed to be going right, yet the royal stood her ground. She had said she could hold off the Humans. She would. She had to. Until Namor returned.
Nita sighed and looked up, towards the surface. The sun shone very dimly, a simple dot in the dark waters. But it had made its cycle and come again... So where was Namor?
-
Two armies clashed. Simple, in a way. Two opposing currents meeting. But it wasn't simple.
The deadly thunder came closer. Atlantian troops found themselves dealing with more than just the oncoming storm. Beasts of burden started at the noise. Several holding precious cannon shot ran off, wild and loose from their reigns. Young, untrained soldiers froze, unable to lift their weapons. Others simply fell to their knees in prayer. More still were overcome with the true weight of the battle they now fought - before, they had fought for Atlantis, now they fought for their very race.
The first line of Humans came through the dim, fog-like atmosphere. They were armored from head to toe, carrying modified rifles topped with bayonets. They moved slowly, almost comically along the ocean bottom. But their eyes... their eyes held no humor. They were full of young, offended fury. Of fear and anger and of being wronged in a way they really didn't understand. They were confused. But any Atlantian knew that a confused shark is always the most dangerous.
The defending army readied.
Two opposing currents met.
And a storm was born.
-
Amid the ruins of a long-fallen temple, Namor stood alone. In his hand he held a single seaweed bulb, his gift from the immortal Posiedon. He had but to work its magic inside of glorious Atlantis to save her, bless her forever... He closed his fingers around it. Yes, he would gladly give up his very kingdom, if only to preserve her, to preserve his people...
A strong rope landed about his shoulders. The prince looked down in suprise, unsure of what he saw. The rope tightened before he could react. It pulled him hard towards razor-sharp coral, slamming him against it, shattering the delicate structure and slicing a fair gash in his forehead*. Blood pooled in the water near him. He now acted much quicker, pulling back on the strangely metallic-looking rope with his great strength. It pulled through a fissue in the coral, hissing terribly, until a figure smashed through. A torn and bloodied body flew into a fallen column with a sickening smack. Namor threw the rope from about his neck with a snarl. "Who dares-- ?" He began, but more ropes landed apon him, pulled at him like a rag doll. Several more bodies, some conscious and some not, landed against various rock and coral faces. But there were still more of the metal ropes. They tangled about him, making even removing them difficult. He roared, struggling, but they did not break.
"Don't bother," a voice from behind him said, even as more ropes came apon him, forcing the prince to his knees, "they're made of adamantium. It's indestructable, as I'm sure you know."
Namor turned. There, beside the broken coral, stood an Atlantian man, dressed in a very modified royal officer's uniform. He didn't have the typical ray gun or trident of an officer, but an American underwater machine gun at his hip. This he happily pointed at the monarch. "You... attack me? Who are you that would do this treasonous act?" Namor spoke behind well-clenched teeth, "You are of a kind to those who now give their lives for their city! How can you forsake her? Is she not yours as well?"
"Mine?" The Atlantian laughed, "Yes, Atlantis will be mine, you fool. I am Merric, the future king of the golden halls! And you... you are nothing anymore." The machine gun was cocked and raised at the prince. Namor clenched his teeth. He knew well the bullets would do little... but madmen, for it was plain that this was indeed a madman, acted on impulse alone. He had been called mad several times, but no... he thought things out. With speed that the other could not track, he grabbed a splinter of sharp coral in his mostly-free hand and threw it at Merric. It sliced through his neck, cutting the blood-rich gills to shreds. The former Guardsman let out a howl, grasping his neck as his bright red blood spilled out into the surrounding waters.
Namor grinned slightly from the ground, "You have forgotten something that should have been burned into you as a pup, Merric--"
A large shark grabbed the bleeding Atlantian around the shoulder, picking him up off the ocean floor.
"--blood brings sharks."
Namor did not watch the beasts devour him. Instead, he turned to freeing himself, and to the sand. He ran his fingers through it, searching... He pulled up the bulb. It was warm, calming, even. He stood there, only for a moment, and thought of his city. Then, as swift as any other creature of the deep, he was gone.
-
The armies, for all their differences, were evenly matched. The Humans were slow to react, and though they had superior weaponry, the Atlantians were swift and aimed their tridents well. A hard jab or knock and the Humans' air tanks ruptured. The resulting explosion would not only make its' owner unable to fight, but quite possibly send several other members of the Humans' close-packed ranks sprawling across the sandy floor. For this, the Atlantians held their ground. But the army was not the only danger. Ships from above rained down depth charges that hit anything in their path. Millitary dugouts and civilian homes alike were blown apart. It also served to scatter the already panicked undersea forces and to further agitate the land-sent army. Atlantian field commanders tried their best to keep their charges in line. Frightened Humans of many nations ignored their radio- beamed orders and swam up to the surface. Chaos.
Nita swam along the battle lines, offering words of encouragement where she could, trying to keep the spirits up until the prince arrived. She was not greeted enthusiastically - to any Atlantian general, field officer, or soldier, "holding the line" is one step away from defeat. And, it seemed, that the swarm of Humans saw no end. Their ranks dissapeared into the mists, their number immeasurable. She wanted very badly to take action as her cousin would, to fly above the ships dropping their deadly cargo and to drop down apon them, ripping steel and iron and ending their destruction. But Vashti had told her to stay her ground. The soldiers needed to see their princess there, needed hope that they could win. She turned suddenly as a cheer went up from the Atlantian lines. They had pushed back the Humans ever so slightly, but that was enough.
The joy was short lived. The line broke just in front of Nita, Human troops rushing clumsily in. She swam at them, sending as many back as she could. Confused, she then swam up to see what had happened. She didn't believe her eyes. No, she couldn't believe it. Atlantians, nearly two hundred fully armed Royal Guardsmen had now joined the fray... on the side of the Humans.
The lines fell back. The Atlantians were confused and tired, and now began to doubt their place. A break in the line formed, and then another. Humans flowed inward in their slow, loping way. Atlantians followed. The lines that had once been held were now scattered masses of soldiers, huddled in tight balls and unable to fight.
Nita swallowed hard. 'No,' she thought, 'this can't be...'
"Atlantis is lost."
"...so quick to condemn, little cousin?"
Nita's head shot up. There, floating just beside her in the oddly serine current, was Namor. And, strange as it was, he was smiling. "Namor! You're back! I- I think..."
"Think nothing for now. Only make way to the palace, for the gods have given great Atlantis a gift."
Namor entered the throneroom slowly, seemingly seeing it for the first time, his eyes open to behold a wonder unknown to mortals. Nita watched him, curious of his strange manner and single, closed fist. She put a hand to his shoulder. He turned to her, a sad smile on his face. "I will miss this."
Nita was confused, "Miss what?"
"Atlantis. My people." He kissed her lightly on the forehead, "Family."
"I... don't understand."
Namor turned to the destruction outside, to the advancing Human troops. "You don't have to. Not yet." The Humans had reached the palace gates. "Know, though you are young, you will lead Atlantis as a fine Queen. You proved that today, as you have proved it in the past."
Still, confusion, "I let Atlantis down! Look! The surfacemen have WON!"
The Prince saw the gate come down, but simply smiled at his cousin. "If not for you, Atlantis would not have made it this far." He took her hand in his, opening his clenched fist into hers. A warmth filled them both. "I will contact you and tell you what has happened today, but not now. Farewell cousin! Rule well!"
As a blinding light filled the room, Namor swam away as fast as he could.
Humans reaching for the door to the throneroom were pulled back by some unknown force. Fighters down below were forced apart, the Humans dragged, unwilling, out of the city. Depth charges stopped in their decent and reversed direction, returning ot the ships which deployed them. Within a matter of minutes, only Atlantians were left in the streets. And, as they came out of their broken homes, the mud and stone and shell began to repair itself. Atlantis was whole again.
Within a day, all was returned to normal. Dead no longer lay dead, on either side, and it was as if no battle had occured at all. Atlantians rejoiced in the streets, out in front of the palace gates, now upright once more. They had no fear of the Humans who awoke just outside of the city. No creature, be he man, beast, or god, could now enter the fair city with evil in his heart.
-
Namor found himself sitting in a New York diner, watching the news of Atlantis on the overhead TV. Though he'd never see her again, Atlantis was safe, now and forever. That's all he'd ever wanted. Somehow, it had lifted a great weight off his shoulders. Just knowing that the golden halls would lay untouched, that his people would never have to fear another threat against them... He smiled.
Still, his business on the land lay unfinished. He had saved his people, and now it seemed, he turned to save another. The Americans still looked to their false god, their idol, Aeyson, to lead them. Namor had seen how easily they had been swayed to war - how long would it be until they were swayed to something much worse?
-
The End?
Not by a long shot!
Author's Notes: Well, ladies and gents (mostly just "gent", hey Mark!), Long Live is finally "done". But its' companion, and a way to tie up all these beautifully frayed loose ends, will come soon in the form of "White Knight". That would be the entire shinanigan from Jim Hammond's (The Original Human Torch) point of view. It'll cover Thane's assistant, happenings in post-Long Live Atlantis, and hopefully give a smoother transition into a planned series. (Yeah, yeah, I know - I can't even keep a story up, and I want to do a series...) Not to mention a whole lotta Torchy goodness! Mmm, android!
More Author's Notes: Did ya' notice that little "*" up there? Yeah, that one. Okay, I figured something... Namor isn't hurt by bullets because they're too blunt to peirce his skin. However, something as thin as a razor (like coral) could manage to cut him, though not deeply. Just to clear that up. ^_^