Disclaimer: I own nothing of the dc universe
The gentle sway of the seaweed outside my window was the first thing I noticed as I woke up. The room was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, with hues of blue and green reflecting from the crystal-clear waters of Atlantis. I could hear the distant chatter of my family in the next room, their voices harmonizing with the occasional song of a passing whale.
I sat up, letting the memories of another life - a life before Atlantis - wash over me. I remembered being Michael, a regular person in a world filled with skyscrapers and traffic jams, not coral palaces and mermen. But now, I was Calab, an Atlantean with a second chance at life.
Lost in my thoughts, I was jolted back to reality by the vivid memory of my first moments in this world. Panic had gripped me as I found myself submerged, the weight of the water pressing down on me from all sides. Desperate for air and disoriented, I'd thrashed wildly, my heart racing with fear. The sensation of drowning was overwhelming.
But strong arms had pulled me close, and I felt a calming presence envelop me. It was my Atlantean father, his deep blue eyes filled with concern. "Breathe," he'd whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. And just like that, I found that I could. The water wasn't suffocating; it was life-giving, and I was home.
As the days turned into weeks, I grew to love this underwater paradise. My parents taught me the ways of the Atlanteans - how to communicate with marine life, the customs and traditions of our people, and the ancient history of our city. Every day was a new adventure, and I embraced my new identity with open arms.
But as I sat in my room that morning, the pain of a more recent memory threatened to overshadow the joy of my new life. The conflict with the surface world, the loss of my parents... The weight of it pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe once more.
I shook my head, pushing the memories away. Today was not a day for grief. Today was a day for action. Atlantis had given me a new life, and I would do everything in my power to protect it.
o-o-o-o-o
Ten years had brought him to this moment.
The dimly lit chamber echoed with the murmurs of an anxious crowd. Hidden deep within the catacombs of Atlantis, this secret location was known only to a select few. Calab stood on a makeshift stage, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
He could feel the eyes of hundreds upon him, their hope, fear, and anticipation palpable in the air. The soft luminescence of bioluminescent corals cast eerie shadows across the faces of the gathered Atlanteans. Every one of them had come to hear him, drawn by the whispered rumors and the mysterious pamphlets that had been circulating for months.
Inside, his heart raced, and doubts threatened to consume him. *Am I ready for this? Can I really lead these people?* But on the outside, he projected an image of unyielding strength and determination. To the crowd, he was their beacon of hope in these troubled times.
His mind drifted back to the months prior. The careful distribution of pamphlets detailing the threats Atlantis faced, both from the surface world and within its very walls. He had been meticulous in his approach, never directly challenging the king but sowing the seeds of doubt and discontent.
The atmosphere in the chamber grew tense as the crowd awaited his words. Calab took a deep breath, drawing strength from the water around him. He felt a gentle touch on his arm and turned to see Tula, her eyes filled with unwavering faith.
"It's time," she whispered, her voice steady and reassuring. "Speak to the people, Calab. They believe in you."
With a nod, he stepped forward, ready to address the future of Atlantis.
Calab took a moment to survey the crowd, letting the weight of the moment settle. He began, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"Atlanteans! Brothers and sisters of the deep, we stand today on the precipice of history. A history that is as rich and vast as the oceans themselves. Our great city of Atlantis, a beacon of civilization, has always been a testament to the strength and ingenuity of our people."
The crowd listened intently, hanging on to every word.
"We were pioneers, leaders in technology and magic, long before the surface world even learned to build their first shelters. Our ancestors harnessed the power of the oceans, built wonders that still stand today, and unlocked secrets of the universe that remain beyond the comprehension of those above."
He paused, letting the pride of their heritage sink in.
"For eons, Atlantis lived in harmony with the surface. We watched over them, guardians of the deep, ensuring the balance of the world was maintained. And for a time, it was a peaceful coexistence."
The atmosphere grew somber as Calab delved into more recent history.
"But as time passed, the surface world grew ambitious. Their vessels started traversing the vast oceans, not to explore, but to dominate. Warships from their endless conflicts sank into our territories, bringing chaos and destruction."
Murmurs of agreement resonated from the crowd.
"Their disregard for the sanctity of the oceans did not stop there. They dumped their waste, their pollutants, their refuse into our waters, treating the very source of all life as nothing more than a trash bin."
Angry shouts erupted from the crowd, but Calab raised his hand, urging for silence.
"And when we, the mighty Atlanteans, revealed ourselves, hoping for understanding, for cooperation, what did we receive? More pollution, more encroachments, and audacious demands from those who should be seeking our guidance."
He took a deep breath, his voice filled with passion.
"They dare to order Atlantis. They, who have shown time and again their inability to steward their own lands, seek to command the masters of the deep?"
The crowd roared in agreement; their collective anger palpable.
"But we are not here today to dwell on their transgressions. We are here to remember who we are, to reclaim our pride, our honor. Atlantis has faced challenges before, and we have always emerged stronger. We will not be trampled upon; we will not be disregarded."
Tears welled up in Calab's eyes as he continued.
"We owe it to our ancestors, to our children, and to the very essence of Atlantis to ensure our legacy continues, unblemished and proud."
With a final, fiery determination, Calab cried out, "Atlantis forever!"
The crowd echoed back, their voices united in a deafening roar, "ATLANTIS FOREVER!"
o-o-o-o-o
The years following Calab's stirring speech saw the rise of a new force in Atlantis – the Protectors of Atlantis. A covert organization with a single goal: to shield Atlantis from the looming threats of the surface world. Their symbol, an emblematic trident encased within a shield, became a beacon of hope for many.
Deep within the labyrinthine caves of the ocean floor, Calab stood beside Tula in a concealed chamber. The dim blue glow from phosphorescent algae illuminated their faces, revealing the weight of the decisions they'd made and the paths they'd chosen.
Tula's voice broke the silence, her concern evident. "Orm is betraying his own blood, Calab. How can we trust him?"
Calab looked at her, his eyes betraying nothing of his inner turmoil. "Orm is devoted to Atlantis, Tula. That's all that matters right now."
But internally, Calab couldn't help but agree with her. His memories from the comics painted Orm as a treacherous figure, one driven by jealousy and hatred for his half-brother, Arthur Curry. And while Calab couldn't recall every detail, he was certain of Orm's untrustworthiness. The question of whether Orm sought to harm Queen Mera remained a looming shadow.
A distant splash announced Orm's arrival. The Prince of Atlantis entered, his regal armor reflecting the dim light. "Thank you for heeding my summons," he began, arrogance dripping from every word. "It pleases me that the Protectors of Atlantis recognize the authority of their prince."
Tula's eyes flashed with disdain, but she held her tongue. The tension in the room was palpable. Calab gave her a subtle nod, signaling her to leave. As she departed, their shared look conveyed a silent understanding.
Left alone with Orm, Calab's thoughts raced. While the alliance with the prince was necessary for now, Calab knew it wouldn't last. Once Orm's usefulness was exhausted, Calab would ensure the prince could pose no further threat to their cause.
For the future of Atlantis, some sacrifices had to be made.
o-o-o-o-o
Months had passed since Calab's alliance with Prince Orm. The tenuous partnership had borne fruit, with Orm proving to be an invaluable asset to the Protectors. His support for a retaliatory strike against the surface world had bolstered the cause, giving them much-needed momentum. However, Calab's resolve to remove the prince remained unwavering.
In a dimly lit alcove of the city, Calab met with a member of the Protectors, a young Atlantean whose name he couldn't quite recall. The young man's posture was tense, his eyes darting nervously as he spoke.
"Lord Calab," he began, voice quivering, "I'm not sure I can go through with this."
Calab studied him for a moment, then spoke in soothing tones, "You are doing this for Atlantis. For the people. When our time comes to emerge from the shadows, you will be hailed as one of the brave martyrs of our cause."
The man hesitated, still visibly anxious. Calab continued, "I'll be nearby, watching. Take solace in that. You won't be alone."
This seemed to reassure the young Atlantean. Drawing a deep breath, he nodded and moved purposefully toward his target – a high-ranking politician known for his unwavering support for Aquaman.
Calab positioned himself at a vantage point, eyes never leaving the young Protector. He watched as the man approached the politician, exchanged a few words, and then...
An explosion echoed through the area, a burst of light and force that sent shockwaves through the vicinity. Chaos ensued as Atlanteans screamed, their peaceful day disrupted by sudden terror. Amidst the smoke and confusion, Calab's smile was the only still point, cold and satisfied.
Turning away from the scene, he made his way through the labyrinthine passages of Atlantis, his thoughts a whirlwind. It struck him then, amidst the satisfaction of a plan well-executed, that he couldn't remember the young man's name. But it mattered little now. The gears of his grand plan were in motion, and nothing would stand in his way.
o-o-o-o-o
The grand throne room of Atlantis, a testament to the city's majesty, now bore witness to its darkest hour. Pillars of coral and gold reached skyward, but their splendor was overshadowed by the tense atmosphere that filled the vast chamber. At its heart stood two figures, diametrically opposed in every sense: King Arthur, the Aquaman, and Calab, the rebel leader of the Protectors.
Orm's lifeless form lay at Calab's feet, a grim testament to the path the rebellion had taken. The distant clamor of battle echoed through the hall, a constant reminder of the civil war that raged outside.
Arthur's voice, filled with sorrow and disbelief, broke the silence. "Why, Calab? Why plunge our home into chaos? Was my rule so unbearable?"
Calab's eyes burned with intensity. "Your rule was not the problem, Arthur. Your complacency was. The surface world has harmed us time and time again, and you let them walk away unpunished."
The king's eyes welled up with pain. "I've mourned every loss, felt the weight of every death. But bloodshed will not bring back our lost ones. There is a better way."
Calab's face twisted in annoyance. "A better way? What does that even mean, Arthur? Platitudes won't heal our wounds or protect our future."
Arthur stepped forward, desperation evident in his stance. "We can find a path of understanding, of cooperation. Not all on the surface are our enemies. We can—"
But Calab's patience had run its course. "Enough!" He lunged at the king, his weapon glinting menacingly.
The two clashed, their blows echoing through the chamber. It was a dance of power and fury, with each combatant matching the other's skill and strength. The fate of Atlantis hung in the balance, and neither was willing to relent.
The throne room reverberated with the sounds of their fierce battle. Calab, with his knowledge of Atlantean magic and training from the military school, was a formidable opponent. But Arthur, as the Aquaman, bore the experience and might of the oceans themselves.
With every blow Calab delivered, Arthur had a counter. Their weapons clashed, sending sparks flying, illuminating the chamber with fleeting flashes of light. The surrounding waters swirled with the intensity of their battle, mirroring the storm of emotions within.
Calab, drawing on his magic, summoned torrents of water to ensnare Arthur, but the king effortlessly redirected them. He was in his element, and every move he made was a testament to his mastery over the oceans.
Several times, Calab found himself on the defensive, narrowly avoiding Arthur's trident or countering his water-based attacks. Sweat and exertion painted his features, and he realized that this battle would not be easily won.
However, Calab's determination was unyielding. He thought of his parents, of the injustices Atlantis had suffered, and of the dream he held for a stronger, more assertive kingdom. This fueled him, giving him the strength to push back, to match Arthur blow for blow.
The two continued their dance of combat, neither giving an inch. The throne room, once a place of order and governance, was now a battleground, bearing witness to a clash of ideals as much as a physical confrontation.
But as the minutes turned to hours, fatigue began to set in. Calab's movements grew slightly slower, his reactions a fraction of a second delayed. Sensing this, Arthur pressed his advantage, driving Calab back with a series of aggressive strikes.
In a desperate move, Calab unleashed a powerful surge of magic, aiming to overpower Arthur in one final assault. The energy crackled through the room, but Arthur, calling upon the might of the oceans, countered it, causing a massive explosion that sent both combatants flying.
When the smoke cleared, Calab lay on the ground, battered and bruised. His strength drained, his vision blurred. Arthur stood a few feet away, equally exhausted but still on his feet, his trident pointing at Calab.
The two locked eyes, understanding passing between them. This battle was over, but the war for the soul of Atlantis was far from decided.