Disclaimer: I do not own or possess any rights to Young Justice or any of the DC characters or the DC world. I only own the creative ideas implemented.
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Prologue:
…
- Tridente City, Xebel, Atlantis
- January 17, 2003
Namor, an eleven-year-old boy, swam through the dimly lit corridors of the Xebelian military barracks in Tridente City, trying to reach his small dormitory to rest after a grueling and exhausting training session on his seventh day of mandatory military service. The sparse lights in the corridors illuminated the aquatic pathways and the marine stone walls.
Namor had trained hard all day. His body was exhausted, his muscles aching from the exertion. As he approached his room, his mind was filled with thoughts about the tough training and his future goals.
Upon reaching his room's door, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"Just a little more…" he told himself, trying to muster the last drops of energy. With a sigh, he pushed the door open and entered. Unknowingly, as he reached his dormitory door and stepped inside, he was heading towards a destiny that would change his life forever.
Well... actually, it would change his destiny for the second time.
Why the second time, you might ask? Simple, he wasn't really Namor.
He wasn't any of the Namors you might think of...
Neither the ridiculously powerful one from Marvel, nor the young atlantean orphan of 11 years old born in Xebel, one of the city-states of Atlantis in the DC world, located in the South Atlantic Ocean and ruled by King Ryus Nereus.
In fact, he was Adam Thomas Amen, an ordinary human from a place known as Earth-Prime where the DC world existed only as fantasy and fiction... Or he was in the past, as it had been a year since Adam started living his life as the young atlantean orphan known as Namor in this world where DC characters were very real.
Oh, and yes, his name was just Namor, he didn't even have a last name as it seemed not all atlanteans have one. And no, he didn't have the same abilities as the Marvel Namor, he was actually even a little below the average of other atlanteans in terms of physical abilities.
Anyway, he had never lived a perfect life...
'Or even a normal one…' now that he thought about it. But then, what's normal for one person can be completely abnormal for another, so who knows, right?
Still, he could assure you that his life, regardless of whatever level of normality it might have once had, was definitely not the same now. The reality he lived in now wasn't the reality he was born into, but it was quite similar... you know, besides the atlantean and aliens… those were new here. Oh, well… all that and the fact that he literally lived underwater in a far more advanced city. But Earth was still Earth for the most part, though he was getting ahead of himself.
His name was Adam Thomas Amen, and this was the story of his life—how he ended up in another universe as Namor and went from being a simple human to an atlantean. Also, it will be a first-hand account of all the future events surrounding the Justice League and the greatest battles in history, since naturally he's going to be on the front lines during all that shit. But that was far from where his story began.
So… his story started on Earth-Prime in January of 2025…
...
...
-Jackson, Mississippi, USA, Earth-Prime (real world)
It was another beautiful day in Jackson, Mississippi. From the rooftop of the tallest building in the city, fifteen-year-old Adam Thomas Amen gazed out over the urban landscape as the sun shone brightly in the sky. The view only reinforced why so many considered Jackson a charming city, despite the shadows that always seemed to follow him.
Jackson was his home, his city. And despite the fact that he had seen that view countless times throughout his life, he always found himself falling in love with it again, as if he were seeing it for the first time. Maybe it was because of the hard life he had lived there, a life that had shaped him into who he was today... Adam had literally grown up on the streets.
His mother had been a prostitute, and his father… well, he never knew him, so who cared? All he knew about his father was that he was Egyptian, and that his last name, Amen, had roots in ancient Egyptian tradition, specifically linked to the lineage of a historic and sacred name: 'Amenhotep,' which means 'Amun is satisfied.' This name had been carried by several important pharaohs of Egypt, including Amenhotep III, one of the most powerful and renowned.
Despite her profession, his mother wasn't one of those addicts who ignored their kids. She was incredible. She took care of her business while Adam was at school and was always there for him, both in the morning when he left and when he came back. Adam never knew what drove her to take up the oldest profession in the world, but he knew she did it to pay the bills, though sometimes it was tough.
Adam was six years old when his mother was killed. Since she was a prostitute, the police didn't pay much attention to the case; she was just another prostitute, probably killed by a client, they said. With no other family, he was placed into foster care, which turned out to be even worse than his previous life. He finally escaped that hell when he was eleven and started living on the streets. It wasn't easy, since the only skill he had at that time was drawing.
After a few weeks of sleeping in alleys and stealing food from vendors, he found himself out of cash and tried his luck as a pickpocket. Needless to say, he failed and thought he was done for. Instead, the guy he tried to rob just smiled and offered to teach him how to do it right.
The man's name was Jhon, or at least that's what he told Adam. Jhon was a con artist, one of the best in the city, and he took Adam under his wing, teaching him how to steal and scam. By the time Adam was fifteen, he was almost as good as Jhon. He could pickpocket without anyone noticing and could get in or out of any situation with his charm. A lot of people think pulling off a scam is hard, and depending on what you're doing, it can be, but the key thing is trust. After all, a scam is essentially a lie, and it takes trust to look someone in the eye and lie without giving anything away.
But you can't pull off a scam or even a simple theft with just trust. You need skill and one more thing... luck. And Adam had trust, skill, and more than his fair share of luck. Jhon's luck, though, eventually ran out during a scam, and he ended up in jail. Adam found himself alone again, but at least this time he had Jhon's apartment, some money, and the talent to grow his income, which he did through various white-collar crimes and scams.
Over time, his reputation grew to the point where people started hiring him to… acquire various items, mostly jewelry and paintings, and since he was young and very good at what he did, he was perfect for some specific jobs. It was an exciting life, adventurous, and it paid really well. But that's where Adam's story really began to change. He hadn't even turned 16 when he took a job that changed his life completely.
It seemed like a simple job: break into the University of Mississippi and steal an artifact that had been discovered during an archaeological excavation. Adam did a little digging and found out it was a statue, made of common black metal, though very old. It didn't seem to be made by anyone famous, nor did it come from an important point in history. It didn't seem to have belonged to anyone famous. It was just old, which might've had some value, but Adam didn't see enough to justify the high price they were paying them to steal it. But who was he to judge? A job was a job, right? Especially when he was being paid so much for something fairly simple.
Adam took on the job of stealing the artifact. All he needed was to get into the place, which wasn't the hardest thing in the world; a quick pick of the lock, and he already knew a hacker who could get into the university's system to let him in.
Once inside, he wasted no time, already knowing that the statue was being kept in one of the science labs for testing, so Adam scoped the place out. There was always a campus guard during the day, along with the person who had discovered the statue and some lab techs. There was no way he could steal it during the day, meaning he'd have to do it at night. Adam decided not to drag this out longer than necessary and came back that same night to check the place out. Luckily for him, it seemed no one expected anyone to want to steal the statue, since it was just sitting there in the lab, sealed in a glass case.
He probably could've taken it right then, but he wanted to observe the security patrol to know how much time he'd have to get in, unlock the container, grab the statue, and get out. There were two guards who patrolled the science wing, one watching the security monitors and the other making rounds. The one making rounds passed by the lab with the statue every half hour, which should've been plenty of time for Adam. He just needed to figure out how to avoid the cameras, which wasn't going to be easy given the lack of cover and hiding spots. The best way would probably be to hack the system and play a video feed, but that wasn't within his skill set, so the hacker would have to handle that.
…..
...
January 17, 2025
It took Adam and the hacker a few days to get everything ready, but finally, the time came. Getting into the university was pretty easy, as was reaching the science labs. Adam picked the lab door lock and opened the container. Picking the lock was simple, and soon he was standing over the glass case, looking at the statue.
It seemed to be a figure of some kind, maybe a person, but it was hard to tell much more than that. However, it was intricately carved, about 15 inches tall, and made of metal. Its eyes were made of what looked like dark red jewels, which was probably why their employer wanted it stolen. But for that to happen, Adam needed to get it out of the case, a task that turned out to be more difficult than he thought, since the container was sitting on a pressure pad, which was undoubtedly connected to an alarm system.
Usually, something like this is pretty easy to get around, like in the movie Indiana Jones, all you need to do is replace the item on the pressure pad with something of equal weight. The only problem was that Adam didn't know how much the statue weighed and, even if he did, he didn't have anything to replace it with.
His best hope was that the people working in the lab had their notes locked in a desk somewhere, which would hopefully give him an idea of what he needed. He searched six drawers without finding anything when his watch beeped, a sign that the guard would be back in the area in five minutes.
Cursing under his breath, he left the lab and ran down the hallway, slipping into one of the empty classrooms while he waited for the guard to pass by and took the time to think over his options. The first would be to leave and try again another night; the second would be to just grab the statue and make a run for it, though not very stealthily.
And there was a third option, a bit less risky… He could always guess how much the statue weighed and grab some random objects to put on the pedestal, and if that didn't work, just grab it and run. Nodding to himself, he peeked over the desk he was hiding behind just in time to see the guard walk past the door. Then he got up and spent the next few minutes grabbing some books, beakers, and other lab equipment before heading back to the lab with the statue.
After taking a deep breath, he decided to start with the books. They were pretty thick science books that, on their own, would hopefully be enough to counter the weight of the statue and its container. Even better would be if this were one of those pressure pads that weren't set to the exact weight of the statue. That way, any weight he replaced it with that was equal to or heavier than the statue would work. However, if it was set a different way, those books would trigger the alarm anyway.
He made the split-second decision to start with one book and, if needed, press it down to add some weight. With the first book in his right hand, he took the glass container with his left and started sliding it gently off the pad, while sliding the book into the empty space at the same time. His movements were painfully slow, until finally, he got it off the pad without triggering the alarm.
With the statue in hand, he could roughly calculate its weight and smiled as he dropped the book, letting out a sigh of relief that the alarm didn't go off. He placed the statue in the bag he'd brought with him and put back the other stuff he'd taken from the classroom, returning everything to its rightful place before heading for the exit.
He had barely made it out when the university alarms started blaring. With a chuckle, Adam sprinted down a nearby alley to where he had stashed another bag. He opened it and stripped off the black hoodie, ski mask, and gloves he had been wearing for the heist, swapping them for a Mississippi Braves t-shirt, a baseball cap, and a long black leather coat he had left there.
Freshly changed, he casually walked out of the alley and back onto the street as numerous police cars sped toward the university. Adam blended quietly back into the city.
…..
When he got back to his apartment, he pulled the statue out of the bag and stared at it, wondering what was so special about it besides its eyes.
Hours later, Adam stepped out of his apartment for some fresh air. He walked the empty streets of Jackson, his thoughts still on the statue and his life.
The cold bit at Adam's skin as he walked through the deserted streets of the city. The night wrapped everything in its dark cloak, and only the distant sound of a car broke the silence.
At fifteen, Adam had learned not to expect much from life, especially after becoming an 's why he made up his mind to seize what life hadn't offered him and stand out from the crowd. He didn't want to be just another nobody; he had high hopes for his future. His steps echoed on the wet pavement, and his breath formed clouds of vapor in the frigid air.
That night, however, destiny had an unexpected twist in store for him.
In a fateful accident, Adam's life came to an abrupt end.
It all happened in a flash: a car out of control, a blinding light, and then... nothing.
When he opened his eyes again, he was in an unfamiliar place. Instead, he found himself in a vast dark plain, with a gray mist floating around him, dense and oppressive. The ground was a mix of dirt and rough rocks, with no sign of vegetation or life.
In front of him stood a tall, hooded figure whose presence emanated an unsettling calm. The figure wore a black robe that extended to the ground, billowing slightly as if animated by a nonexistent wind. From the hood emerged a skeletal face, whose empty eye sockets seemed to absorb all light, creating an even deeper darkness around them. Its bones were whitish, gleaming with a macabre shine, and from its elongated fingers hung silver chains that tinkled softly.
"Welcome, mortal," said Death in a deep, resonant voice that seemed to vibrate in the very air. "You have died. But we are not here to talk about your final fate, but rather about a choice you have..."
Adam frowned, confused. 'Final fate? What choice could there be in death?'
"You can choose to follow your destiny, whether it be heaven or hell in this world, something you will eventually discover… Or you can choose to transmigrate your soul into a body in other world"
The constant questioning of why him, just why offer him such an opportunity when he wasn't anything special, it made no sense, but a part of him knew that those questions were irrelevant now. He was dead and he was being offered a second chance…
Adam remained silent, processing the information. He wasn't a saint, but neither was he a demon, at least that's what he liked to think.
The idea of facing an unknown judgment terrified him, especially because he had done several improper things, from lying to stealing... of course, never with malice only out of pure necessity, but that didn't change the fact that he had done all that. On the other hand, the opportunity to start anew in another world seemed intriguing...
"Err... Would I retain my memories if I choose to transmigrate?" Adam asked, trying to understand all the implications. After all, what was the point of a second chance if he wasn't himself anymore. To him, at this moment, this was the one and only important question.
But then he realized something very strange: despite how nervous and shocked he felt, he was acting with surprising calm throughout the situation. He had even quickly assessed the best available options without being affected by all his concerns and countless questions.
"Yes mortal, you would retain your memories," Death replied. "But I can't tell you which world it is or what kind of body you will find yourself in. It is something you will have to discover for yourself..."
"Additionally, you will not be able to reveal anything about our conversation, your previous life, or the transmigration process. To help you with this, you will gain an ability similar to what you know as 'Gamer's Mind', which will protect your mind allowing you to maintain total mental autonomy at all times, free from any external influence or intrusion, and will prevent you from revealing these secrets…"
"In fact, you are currently experiencing something similar to what it feels like to have this ability, as all the dead temporarily gain a similar ability upon dying, to process the entire situation until their final judgment."
Adam nodded slowly. Now it all made more sense.
Part of him was in chaos from all the current events, but another part seemed to be preventing that chaos from negatively affecting him... it was a strange feeling, to be in chaos and yet not be.
But Adam quickly stopped thinking about that to focus on the current situation and what he should do...
The idea of keeping his memories and permanently obtaining a special ability like 'Gamer's Mind' sounded tempting, and the uncertainty of heaven or hell was too terrifying for him. He understood that the ability being given to him had countless benefits, but also implied a way to ensure he couldn't mention/reveal anything.
Even so, he had already made a decision.
"I accept," Adam finally said.
Death simply extended its hand, and Adam took it. Everything went black…
….
…..
-Kraken City, Xebel, Atlantis
-January 17th, 2002
When Adam opened his eyes again, he was in a different body.
Adam woke up dazed... The first thing he noticed was the unmistakable sensation of weightlessness, as if he were floating. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus on his surroundings, but only saw a watery blur. Panic began to overtake him as he realized he was submerged in water, yet he was breathing effortlessly.
Fortunately, the "Gamer's Mind" ability kicked in, and he felt a strange and comforting calm that allowed him to process everything without panicking.
Instinctively, Adam held his breath, expecting his lungs to scream for air, but it never happened. Instead, he felt the refreshing flow of water through what he now realized were gills. His heart raced as he brought his hands to his neck, feeling the strange new slits that allowed him to breathe underwater.
'What the hell is going on?' he thought frantically. Gamer's Mind had worked wonders to keep him from losing it at that moment; his mind was in chaos, but at least he could process everything.
Then a flood of memories poured into his mind.
He discovered that he was now Namor, a ten-year-old atlantean orphan born on January 7, 1992, living in Kraken City within Xebel, a city-state of Atlantis. To his surprise, it was the year 2002 and, according to his understanding, in some version of the dangerous DC universe since Aquaman was real in this world, although this Aquaman didn't resemble the version from the movies he had seen.
He wasn't a big fan of DC. After all, when you're an orphan, it's hard to be a fan of anything other than money… But he believed he had seen and enjoyed most of the live-action movies of the 21st century they released, but had never seen the comics or the animated movies/series.
It took him a while to come to terms with the idea that everything he was experiencing was real. It was a radical change for him and extremely difficult to process. But at least with Gamer's Mind, he could stay calm and quickly assess the situation he was in.
Sitting in the small and dimly lit room, Adam observed his surroundings, trying to take it all in.
He was in a small but orderly room, with marine stone walls adorned with luminous corals and bioluminescent algae providing a soft and ethereal glow. Strange unknown symbols were engraved on the stone walls, but his mind instantly provided him with the information he needed about these symbols—it was basic atlantean, and apparently, he could now understand it perfectly.
There were several simple pieces of furniture woven with algae filling the room. There was also a large window that showed a spectacular view of the ocean. He was literally in the ocean. For someone who until moments ago was just a simple human on the surface, this was a radical change. He couldn't help but marvel at being in an underwater city in the middle of the South Atlantic.
"It's like being in a dream," he murmured, his voice sounding strange and slightly echoic, but perfectly clear despite being underwater.
Adam stood up, at first with difficulty, and moved towards the window. Looking outside, his breath caught… he saw a landscape of deep blue, with fish and other marine creatures swimming in an eternal dance. And he also found an impressive view of an underwater city, full of activity. atlanteans swam gracefully through the water, going about their daily lives, completely indifferent to their aquatic surroundings. Buildings made of coral and stone rose majestically, illuminated by soft bioluminescence that gave the environment an ethereal glow.
"I'm really in Atlantis," Adam whispered in awe, his countless questions momentarily overcome by the sheer wonder of it all.
Although a part of him quickly clarified that he was actually in Xebel, one of the 8 city-states of Atlantis. But at this moment that couldn't matter less.
"I am an atlantean…" he murmured, trying to come to terms with this fact. Now he was no longer a person living his life on the surface, but underwater.
He now even had the knowledge of how to read and speak basic atlantean, and not only that, he could breathe underwater and speak, as well as hear what was being said. It was simply incredible. He didn't understand how atlantean physiology worked, but it was undoubtedly amazing.
Namor carefully noted the changes in his body. Now he was not only physically smaller at 10 years old instead of 15, but his entire body was also very different.
He felt a new strength and agility in his muscles. His hands were thinner and more agile, with small membranes between his fingers. His muscles felt very different, and looking at himself in a mirror in the room, he saw that his eyes glowed with an intense golden color. His hair was very dark blue and moved with the water current while his skin was pale white, having lost his previous much more tanned skin tone. He had a slim build and had a set of visible gills on his neck that allowed him to breathe underwater.
Not only did he feel a strength and agility he had never experienced before, but now his mind was filled with memories of a childhood spent under the ocean.
"So, I guess I now have to get used to my new name as Namor…" he murmured to himself, exploring the child's memories further.
Namor's life had not been easy or special in any way; he was just an average atlantean orphan who didn't even have a last name.
The last memories he has of this body are that he got quite sick and then fainted… And then today he woke up as Namor.
As he looked out the window, he felt a wave of determination. He had a new chance, a new life in a world full of wonders and dangers. And this time, he was going to make the most of it. He knew he couldn't talk about his past life or his encounter with Death, but he was certain he had made the right decision.
Even if he as Namor was just an average atlantean, he was extremely satisfied because being an atlantean, even an average one, was simply a thousand times better choice than being just an average human.
This is due to a very simple reason, and that is that atlanteans are like humans but badass.
First of all, one has to keep in mind that all atlanteans are born and live in the depths of the seas and oceans under tons of pressure. An average atlantean already has 10 times the muscle density of a human, they are practically bulletproof, and their strength is even greater than that of Gorillas or Bears...
Literally, an army of average atlanteans is like having an army of superhumans that are able to fight either on land or underwater.
And there are exceptions like Aquaman who is many times stronger than an average atlantean, being who knows how many times faster, stronger, and more resilient.
So yes, he really couldn't complain.
Currently, it was January 17, 2002. Only 10 days had passed since Namor turned 10 years old, and from the memories he retained, he knew that July 1 was the day public school started in Xebel.
Yep, in Atlantis, education was compulsory and started on June 1, ending on December 27. atlanteans had to complete 7 years of compulsory education. After these 7 years, all young people had to enter mandatory military service for another 2 years.
For anyone non-atlantean, this might seem crazy, as young people usually started their education at 5 or 6 years old. Thus, when they finished their education and joined the military service, they were only between 12 and 13 years old.
This might seem premature, but for everyone in Atlantis, that age was more than adequate.
In fact, once an atlantean finished their compulsory education and, generally, after completing military service, unless they remained in the militia or had the opportunity to continue studying, they were expected to find a job, since from that moment on the state stopped supporting them financially.
And currently, Namor was supposed to start his penultimate year of school in June…
He stopped thinking about all that and decided to leave his room to explore the city on his own. He might have Namor's memories but he still wanted to familiarize himself with everything that surrounded him now.
...
As he left the room, the reality of his new situation started to sink in. Moving through the water felt natural; his body knew exactly how to navigate this new environment with ease and grace.
Adam's initial interactions as Namor with the other atlanteans were cautious. He watched everyone and everything with curiosity and fascination. Conversations were tough at first, but he quickly adapted to basic atlantean, even though he sometimes slipped and said an English word, which earned him a few strange looks.
Despite his new abilities, he felt out of place—a human thrown into an atlantean body in a superhero world. It would take him some time to fully accept this.
...
As he swam through the streets of Kraken City, Namor met a young atlantean girl carrying a basket of algae. She looked at him curiously.
"Oh, Namor, what are you doing here?" she asked, surprised. "I haven't seen you since you got sick"
Namor searched his memory and remembered her name was Athlea.
"Yeah, um… I'm better now," he nodded, trying to hide the fact that he wasn't really the Namor she knew.
"Good to see you recovered," she said with a slight nod. "Do you need anything?"
"Err… actually, yes. Umm I was looking for the library," he felt a bit awkward but pressed on.
"The library is where it's always been, Namor," Athlea joked, pointing. "Straight down this street, then turn right at the Kraken statue"
'Yeah… thanks a lot, previous Namor, for never going to the library or worried to know where it was ' he thought to himself rather annoyed at not being able to get such simple information from the acquired memories.
"Thanks," Namor said with a gentle smile.
Athlea shrugged: "No problem. Take care"
….
As he continued exploring, Namor came across a group of young atlanteans around his age playing underwater hockey near a bioluminescent fountain, also known as Octopush according to the memories he kept of Namor who used to enjoy this game.
One of the young atlanteans, a boy his age, approached, sizing him up.
"Namor! Want to play?" the boy asked. "We haven't seen you in a while"
"I was sick…" he replied, feeling a bit out of place. He remembered this boy's name was Lir, another orphan like him.
"I see…" Lir said, not entirely convinced. "Well, you can join if you want"
"No thanks, I have to go to the library…"
"The library? That's new," Lir raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah well, there are some things I want to look up," Namor laughed awkwardly and said goodbye to Lir and the others, not wanting to prolong the conversation.
Once he arrived at the library, he began searching for all kinds of information that young Namor naturally didn't have in his memories, or if he did, it was very basic.
…
….
-Kraken City, Xebel, Atlantis
-January 18th, 2002
"Kids, breakfast is ready! Come down!"
"..."
"Namor, you'd better come down here or there won't be any food left!" A loud voice floated up from downstairs, penetrating through thick layers of marine stone but still retaining that feminine edge. It was Adella, the caretaker of the orphanage.
Immediately, Namor swam out of bed, his bare feet barely grazing the floor as he glided toward the full-length mirror nearby. He saw his reflection and thought the same thing he always did… he was an invader in this world, in this body. That was something he still had trouble fully accepting.
"I'm still not used to this…" he muttered to himself as he looked at his reflection—the reflection of a young boy surrounded by water, floating and breathing effortlessly, with wide golden eyes and hair drifting gently around his head, moving softly and slowly, following the current of the water.
Slowly, he pulled himself away from the mirror and went to the bathroom to wash up and change. Namor only had one set of tight, embarrassing underwear.
"This kid has no sense of style," he mumbled. But then again, the previous Namor had been only 10 years old, an orphan with no money—unlike him, who used to steal to get what he needed. Besides, if his memories weren't wrong, he knew this type of clothing was common among all the atlantean orphans.
…
While he was contemplating his future in this world, he ran into someone in the hallway.
"Eh?"
"...?"
He remembered her thanks to his memories.
She was tall, but not too tall. With black hair and black eyes. She had a straight figure, without curves, and her physique could easily be mistaken for a man's. The clothes she wore were also tight-fitting.
She stared at him intently, a coral cleaner in her mouth.
A name popped into his mind. Myralynn, the caretaker's oldest daughter, five years older than Namor. She had finished her mandatory military service but hadn't pursued further education or found a job since, which is why she often helped out at the orphanage. Though, to be honest, she did a terrible job, and her somewhat tomboyish and bad-tempered personality didn't help her case.
He also knew from his memories that there were rumors about her being caught stealing valuables from her superiors during military service, which was probably why she hadn't been kept in the Xebelian militia despite her physical abilities being above the average atlantean. And he knew that these rumors were probably more than just gossip, as he could recognize a potential thief when he saw one.
"Good morning… Myra," he greeted her with a nod, knowing from his memories that she hated being called by her full name. She had literally forced everyone to call her Myra instead of Myralynn.
Myra looked him up and down, her gaze sharp, as if she were trying to decide whether he was about to annoy her or not. After a few seconds of tension, she simply grunted in response, pulling the coral cleaner from her mouth and turning to walk away.
"Don't be late for breakfast," was all she said as she headed toward the stairs.
He nodded, even though she could no longer see him. He decided it wasn't worth trying to force a conversation at that moment.
Now, when I mentioned washing up in the bathroom, you probably pictured a regular bathroom…
Well, it turns out atlantean bathrooms are quite different since, you know, they live underwater.
For starters, living underwater means you're exposed to a constant flow of water, which means your skin and hair are in constant contact with seawater. This serves as a basic cleaning system, naturally washing away dirt and sweat.
Still, everyone had the habit of cleaning themselves, but instead of using soap or shampoo, they used minerals or underwater plants that acted as natural cleansers. Of course, there were other more advanced products and technological devices, but these were mostly used by a small portion of the atlantean population, since they weren't really necessary. There were also many specialized devices or methods for personal care, like devices that could purify or revitalize the skin and hair, as opposed to the traditional liquid products used on the surface.
As for the bathroom itself, well, it's quite different...
In a closed space, they use technology that produces a strong, clean underwater current, which, of course, is not natural. It could be hot or cold since the technology allows for regulation. This same technology could also create something like freshwater bubbles in a specific area for deeper cleaning.
Oh, and the coral cleaner Myra was using is basically the atlantean version of a toothbrush. But this coral cleaner was made from a living coral or sea sponge bio-structure with cleaning properties, which was modified with highly advanced biotechnology to ensure a design that could be used by atlanteans as a perfect tool for oral hygiene.
…..
…..
As the days passed, Adam began to explore Kraken City, marveling at its advanced technology and ancient architecture, rich in culture and very different from what he knew. He even visited places outside Kraken City but still within Xebel. There were many fascinating things, but the grandeur of the Xebel palace stood out, with its tall towers shining with a pulsating light.
All of Xebel was a mix of the mystical and the mechanical, a testament to a civilization that had thrived underwater for centuries.
Despite the impressive surroundings, Adam couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider. He struggled with his identity, torn between the human life he once knew and the atlantean body he now inhabited.
He found comfort in a daily routine. He attended the local library in Kraken City, learning all he could about the history and technology of Atlantis. The rest of his time was spent exercising or taking basic combat classes, though he sadly discovered he wasn't physically adept or a natural in combat—both crucial in an underwater society. He was even slightly below average, which only made him feel worse.
However, he didn't let this get him down, as he planned to go to live on the surface once he finished his education and mandatory military service.
And on the surface, even if he was below average physically for an atlantean, he was still ten times stronger than a normal human. He had faith that he would achieve great success and money—money was still the most important thing to him. After all, the world revolved around it.
So he began to carefully plan for his future in this world. Focusing first on his studies, the sooner he finished his compulsory education, the better.
During this time, Namor and Myra crossed paths occasionally in the orphanage halls. Their greetings were brief, but Namor made an effort not to bother her or look at her strangely like the other orphans did, who often whispered about her whenever they could. On the contrary, he showed her subtle respect, something Myra seemed to appreciate, though she never acknowledged it verbally.
...
One afternoon, while Namor was practicing the art of moving silently through the orphanage's large common room—something that turned out to be much harder than expected since he was underwater now and not on land—a reflection in the hallway mirror caught his eye. It was Myra, watching him from the half-open door, arms crossed.
"You're pretty good at not making noise," she finally commented, her tone neutral, almost bored.
Namor stopped, realizing he'd been caught.
"It's useful when you want to avoid the caretaker," he responded with a slight smile, testing to see if she would reply with anything other than her usual indifference. After all, the caretaker was her mother.
Myra let out a small, barely noticeable chuckle through her nose.
"You're not the only one who's learned how to do that," she said, walking toward him with confidence. "Though I don't know why a ten-year-old would need those skills."
Namor saw an opportunity to plant a seed of curiosity in her.
"You learn a lot of things out of necessity," he said in a low voice, keeping it casual. "Some of them might surprise you."
Myra looked at him with more interest now.
"Oh... like what?"
Namor shrugged, pretending to be indifferent.
"Nothing that wouldn't be useful for an orphan," he left it at that, letting his silence plant the idea in Myra's mind.
...
As days passed, Myra began seeking out more interactions with Namor, always casual, but Namor could sense her growing curiosity.
One night, while the other kids slept, Myra found Namor in the orphanage director's office, rummaging through a drawer the director usually kept locked.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered urgently, closing the door behind her.
Namor, unfazed, pulled out a small bag of coins from the back of the drawer.
"The caretaker told us there wasn't enough money for desserts this week because the director said there were unexpected expenses," he explained calmly. "That's not true. Sometimes he keeps a little for his own indulgences."
Myra looked at him with a mix of surprise and admiration.
"And how did you know it was there?" she asked, clearly intrigued by the intelligence of this ten-year-old in front of her. She had never liked the director of the orphanage, but since he was her mother's boss, and now hers as well, she'd never spoken up about it.
Namor smirked.
"I'm good at observing. And like I told you before, I've learned a few things."
Myra studied him, weighing what she had just witnessed.
"You could get in serious trouble for doing this," she warned, though her tone lacked any real severity. After all, she wasn't one to give lectures, considering she had done similar things herself.
"Only if I get caught," he replied with a wink.
There was a moment of silence, a kind of mutual assessment, and then Myra, instead of scolding him, stepped a little closer.
"So, tell me… what else have you learned to do?"
Namor understood that it was time to lay his cards on the table.
"Enough to know there are valuable things not found in the kitchen here, but that can be taken just as easily," he responded, hinting at something bigger.
Myra looked at him with a newfound glint in her eye.
"And you're planning to do something, aren't you?" she asked, not knowing why, but something told her this kid was far more intelligent and capable than any other his age—or even herself.
Namor nodded.
"Maybe... something that could benefit both of us. You're already an adult and you know more about the technology in this city. I know how to get in and out without being seen with a little help. Oh, and I'm a pretty good actor too," he smiled, fixing her with a gaze far more intense than any ten-year-old should have.
Myra didn't respond immediately, but the spark of interest in her eyes told Namor everything he needed to know.
"What do you have in mind?" she finally asked, and Namor knew he had just gained a very useful partner. If there was one thing he had learned from Jhon, it was that two are always better than one.
...
The first job they planned together was simple: a grumpy local merchant who frequently left his shop unattended for a few minutes while he went to the market.
While Myra distracted the merchant, Namor slipped into the shop, moving through the shadows like he was born for it. He stole some coins but also took something smaller and less noticeable: a silver amulet that he knew the merchant valued highly.
When they met at the agreed rendezvous point, Namor showed Myra the amulet, explaining that sometimes, things without direct monetary value could be far more valuable.
"So, what do we do with this?" Myra asked, intrigued.
"We sell it to someone who knows its worth," Namor replied. "And make sure the merchant never suspects it was us."
The job was a success. They didn't make much, but it was enough for Myra to start trusting Namor's skills, and vice versa.
...
Over time, their thefts became bolder and their plans more elaborate. Myra began teaching Namor about Atlantis' technology.
In return, Namor showed Myra the skills he had perfected in his other life: how to pick locks, how to manipulate people to get what they wanted, how to think like a thief.
Each small success they shared strengthened their bond. Myra, who at first saw Namor as just a kid, began to respect his intelligence and audacity. Namor, in turn, started to see Myra not just as the grumpy daughter of the caretaker, but as a true partner.
"Why do you do this?" Myra asked one day, as they counted their earnings in a quiet corner of the orphanage.
Namor looked at her, considering his answer.
"Because I don't want to be just another face in the crowd. I want to be remembered, and to do that, you need a lot of money first."
Myra smiled, amused.
"You're right. Life's not going to give us anything. We'll have to take it ourselves."
Namor couldn't agree more. In fact, for him, it was practically a creed.
...
Their relationship developed slowly, but steadily. While Myra remained somewhat tomboyish and Namor still felt like an outsider in his own body, together, they made a good team.
With each new plan, each new theft, their bond grew stronger. And although they both knew their paths might eventually diverge, for now, they had each other's backs, trusting one another.
And little by little, Namor began to feel more at home in this new world.
….
….
With each passing day, he felt more comfortable in his new skin. The initial shock gave way to a sense of purpose as he began to understand the opportunities that came with being an atlantean.
Over time, he found a balance between his past and his present.
And five months after arriving in this world, he finally began to integrate into his new identity as Namor. Although he still felt a strong attachment to his previous identity as Adam, he gradually accepted that he was now Namor, at least while he was in Atlantis.
But since he planned to live on the surface in the future, he knew he would need identification as a citizen of some country.
Naturally, he planned to use his identity as Adam again since he couldn't just go by Namor. So, he had already decided that his name on the surface would be Adam Thomas Amen, keeping something from his past—his name, the only thing he had left.
His plan was simple. He would get a fake ID in some country on the surface, then, after finishing his education and mandatory military service, he would leave Xebel as an adult atlantean.
Of course, he could leave now, but the state wouldn't allow it. If he disappeared, the state would search for him and report him missing, preventing him from returning to Xebel or any other city-state in Atlantis. But if he left as an adult, there would be no problem unless he committed a crime.
He also spent a lot of time studying the geography of both Atlantis and the surface world, so he would know how to navigate once he left Xebel and headed to some country on the surface.
During this time, he managed to skip ahead to his final school year instead of entering his penultimate year. He requested to take exams to advance a year and passed all of them with excellent grades, so his request was approved.
Thanks to his intellect, superior to other ten-year-old atlanteans—though only because he was mentally fifteen—he advanced a year in his compulsory education at the public school in Kraken City, Xebel. Everyone in the orphanage was surprised by this, well, everybody except Myra who knew better than anyone how smart and capable he was.
Besides studying, training and well… stealing, he became interested in learning atlantean magic since a significant part of the atlantean population could use magic if they set their minds to it.
Naturally, the little he managed to learn about atlantean magic were some common books that only served to initiate one into magic and determine if they had the ability to sense and use it. The first step was to feel magic and then see if one had the talent to use it. If successful, they could then try to enter the Conservatory of Sorcery in Poseidonis to learn how to use atlantean magic.
It was practically impossible to obtain more advanced knowledge about atlantean magic since this knowledge was restricted to students at the Conservatory of Sorcery in Poseidonis.
However, none of this was something he had to worry about since he, unfortunately, did not have the ability to sense magic. No matter how much he tried to follow the book's instructions, he never managed to pass the first and most essential step—feeling it.
So, it seemed he wouldn't be a magic user.
It was frustrating. Magic was the ultimate dream for any normal person, so knowing he couldn't use it was painful. But he accepted it and focused on his studies and physical training…. and naturally kept on stealing alongside Myra.
….
…..
After seven months since becoming Namor, he was gradually progressing with his plans.
He had managed to buy, with all his "savings", from a magical shop in the black market of Xebel a dirty, old, and simple enchanted necklace that alters the physical appearance and voice of the wearer to create an illusion to the outside world. Well, it's just a Glamour Charm, and the charm is only effective while it is being worn.
But it was very useful for Namor because the necklace created a disguise of him as a normal adult person from the surface with long dark black hair, dark brown skin, black eyes, high cheekbones, and a muscular build.
It was with this disguise that Namor finally left Xebel for the first time and went to the surface. There, he began to make some connections with the underworld of the surface world in South America, using an alias that was none other than "Deadpool"
Yes, he found it amusing to use that name. He even considered using a similar costume but ended up discarding the idea.
Actually, he already started using that alias a while ago during his robberies in Xebel together with Myra. She on the other hand thought it was lame to have an alias, which is why she opted not to get one. Besides, she wasn't interested in living or staying on the surface in the future like Namor, so she didn't need a disguise either.
And in the underworld of the surface world, Namor started using the name Deadpool to participate in various illegal activities, such as leveraging his superior atlantean physique to engage in underground fights and earn large sums of money while making connections that would be useful for his future plans to integrate into life on the surface.
Every day after finishing his mandatory classes at the public school in Kraken City, he went to the surface with his appearance as Deadpool and participated in several fights. Myra, though less interested in the surface than he was, went along with him on several occasions to make bets for him, causing the two of them to earn even more money than they used to steal.
And it was thanks to these underground fights that Namor could better understand his current physical prowess compared to humans in good physical condition.
….
During his first fights, he had almost no combat experience, while his opponents were experts in various types of combat. This caused Namor to always be at a disadvantage since his opponents, with their training and experience, always started with a cautious approach, trying to assess his skills and weaknesses, and Namor, with his atlantean strength and stamina, usually just tried to use his raw power to hit them. However, his opponents could dodge and avoid his blows with ease, using their agility and techniques.
His opponents usually quickly found his weakness, which was a predictable attack pattern and an obvious lack of coordination, and always exploited these with precise and effective attacks. But Namor's durability made it extremely difficult to cause him real harm.
It took Namor a long time to start adapting and learning to fight a little better. He tried to use his speed and agility to counter his opponents' techniques. However, his opponents were experts and always maintained the advantage, using their experience and skills to keep him at bay.
Although, in the end, Namor always found an opportunity to finish the fight with a strong, fortuitous blow.
Little by little, as Deadpool, he began to earn large sums of money by traveling throughout Latin America and mostly stealing and participating in underground fights in Brazil and other South American countries to make money for when he would live on the surface. Doing this also allowed him to develop the combat skills he would need if he ever had real problems with any dangerous person in the DC world.
Namor was very aware that he could encounter a villain with powers that rival or even surpass the physical constitution of an atlantean, and he didn't want to risk not being prepared for any future problems.
Additionally, it served as physical training. Although combat on the surface was completely different from underwater combat. That's why Namor also started taking some combat classes on the surface with the money he earned.
Oh and obviously Myra didn't let pass the opportunity to steal along with him several places on the surface world, having both a remarkable physical advantage and a much more advanced technological knowledge thanks to Atlantis technology being far more advanced, both were able to perform even bigger robberies and with huge sums compared to what they were able to steal in Xebel.
…
…
Namor hid cautiously behind a wall as two museum guards walked by. Smiling slightly, he pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it near the guards. A small puff of gray smoke emerged from the pellet, and the two men collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Namor, dressed all in black with his pendant giving him the appearance he used under the alias Deadpool, chuckled softly and gestured for Myra, his black-haired, black-eyed partner, to follow him.
The two slipped quietly into one of the museum rooms and approached a large glass case that held a vibrant golden-colored gem inside. Myra pulled a small pocket mirror from her belt and held it in the air above the case, redirecting any invisible lasers that might have been protecting it.
Namor fluidly removed the gem from its case. With a smirk, he slipped the gem into a padded pouch inside his jacket. While Myra put the case back and retrieved her mirror, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, round stencil and a spray can. Carefully, he pressed the stencil against the wall near the display case. A quick spray of red and black paint, and his signature mark appeared—the unmistakable logo of Deadpool.
The red circle with the sharp black line down the middle, and the eerie white eyes staring out, was his calling card, a symbol that told the world who had pulled off this daring heist. It was his personal touch, a way to let everyone know that Deadpool had struck again.
Without a second glance, he and Myra disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind only the faint scent of spray paint and Deadpool's unmistakable mark.
...
Once they were out of the museum, already back in Xebel and inside Myra's room at the orphanage, Namor turned to the black-haired woman, his accomplice, Myralynn.
"So?" Namor asked, now without his pendant's transformed appearance. "What do you think? It matches my eyes pretty well, right?"
And it was true—Namor's bright golden eyes rivaled the glow of the gem he had just stolen.
Myralynn smirked sarcastically, tying her black hair into a ponytail with a black elastic band.
"Sure, Namor. Sure," she said as she dropped onto the white couch, searching the room for the remote and switching on the atlantean TV, which was quite similar to the normal surface TV although more... high-tech.
Namor grinned and sat next to his friend to watch the latest news on a atlantean TV that had obviously been bought with stolen money—or maybe earned after selling something stolen… not like either of them could really remember at this point anyway.
...
...
"It's happened again!" A fist slammed on the metal desk, and coffee spilled from a cup that had been knocked by the fist. A maid hurried over to clean it, and the man sighed.
"I can't believe it."
"Can't believe what?" asked a lean, muscular, and handsome man who had just walked into the room.
"Yeah, man, what happened again?" added a shorter, more unremarkable man who followed behind the first.
The man, Mr. Omar, looked up at the two visitors.
"Oh, hey, guys. Please, have a seat," he said, pressing a button on his silver desk, making a couch rise up from the floor right under Gaston, the muscular handsome guy, and Dante, the shorter man, causing both of them to sit down immediately.
"Now, gentlemen, I've got a mission for you. It's going to be…" Omar paused. "Tough. Really tough."
"Leave it to us, man! We can handle anything!" Dante said, grinning proudly as he leaned back on the cushions. Gaston just smiled and nodded in agreement.
"Alright then," Omar smiled, and his bald head gleamed under the room's light. He pressed another button, and a small video clip from a museum security camera filled the screen behind him.
Two figures, one dressed in black and red, and the other all in black, jumped into the room. The figure in black and red stepped into the light, and Gaston recognized him immediately.
'Deadpool,' Gaston thought suddenly.
"That," Omar declared as the footage rewound and paused on the image of the black-and-red figure staring at the gem.
"That's the man you two are after. Along with his partner. We have very limited information on them: they're definitely master thieves. However, they have a bit of an arrogant streak… Deadpool, as he's known, always leaves a mark at the scene of his heists. It's like his trademark."
Omar paused to take a sip of his coffee.
"They've just stolen an invaluable jewel, an Imperial Topaz. This is unbelievably bad news, as this is the hundredth heist they've pulled off."
"You want us to capture them?" Gaston asked with a smug grin.
"Yes," Omar said. "By force, by foul play, by whatever means necessary. Just get them into our prison. These two are extremely dangerous."
Omar cleared his throat and continued, "Now, if you head to the next room, Andres will show you everything we've got on these two."
Gaston and Dante nodded and headed into the waiting room. Andres looked up when they entered, and his gray eyes greeted them warmly.
"Hey, guys! Heard you needed some info on that thief Deadpool and his partner."
"What have you got on them?" Gaston asked.
Andres shrugged and handed over two thin sheets of paper.
"This is all I could dig up. They're really good—no one's been able to stop them yet."
Dante sat in a swivel chair and spun around.
"Alright, let's get to it. What's the deal with these two thieves?"
Gaston scanned the sheet with more of the text on it.
"The girl with the black hair—she goes by 'Myra,' according to her partner. We assume that's a nickname. Someone managed to snap a decent picture of this Myra chick," Andres handed them a slightly blurry photo of a pale girl with shoulder-length black hair and matching eyes.
"And the guy?" Gaston asked, more interested in this thief.
"We know a little more about him. He's a successful thief and illegal fighter. No name's been found, but many have seen his face in the underground fights he participates in. We've got some photos of him—he's known as 'Deadpool' in the underworld," Andres said, handing over several photos of a muscular, dark-skinned man.
Gaston nodded and took the two sheets and the photo.
"Let's head back to the floor, Dante. We can talk more about this there," Gaston gestured to Andres. "Thanks."
"No problem, man. Hit me up whenever you need."
Dante and Gaston turned and left the room.
….
…..
By January 7th of the following year, when he turned 11 years old, Namor had already finished his mandatory education a year earlier than most atlanteans.
And now he only had to wait three days until January 10th when he would go to Tridente City, where the atlantean military school of Xebel was located, to start his two years of mandatory military service at the age of 11.
So far, everything was going according to his plans. His plan was simple... Throughout Atlantis, he was just an average atlantean citizen from Xebel.
Well, maybe he could be considered somewhat smarter by some because he finished his studies a year earlier than usual, but that didn't make up for not having talent in magic and being physically slightly below average.
That's why he kept thinking about permanently living on the surface, where among ordinary humans, an atlantean was practically a person with incredible superpowers. There he already knew he could stand out and succeed much more than in Atlantis. Besides, although living underwater was amazing, he still preferred living on the surface.
On the other hand, Namor, with his alias as Deadpool, had not only managed to amass a large amount of cash but also had gained several useful connections and had substantially improved his combat skills.
Sadly, these were his last days as Deadpool because once he went to Tridente City for his two years of mandatory military service, he couldn't leave the military barracks to go to the surface whenever he wanted, and all his schedules would be more controlled and busy.
Myra, knowing this, decided to leave Xebel a couple of days ago and use the money she had 'earned' to start a new business in Poseidonis, something about researching and selling new technologies.
She hadn't even properly said goodbye to him, but he knew she just had to avoid showing her true emotions when facing the fact that their paths were finally parting. She might be grumpy and a bit of a tomboy, but just as he had come to consider her a friend, he was sure she had also considered him more than just a partner in crime.
...
In the heart of the Underworld of Buenos Aires in Argentina, there was the notorious illegal fight club "Tango Mortal". A place where only the bravest or craziest and desperate dared to enter.
There, Namor, who was known by everyone as a mysterious fighter and thief known only by his alias "Deadpool", had been making waves for months, winning fight after fight and accumulating a fortune.
No one knew his true identity, not because he hid his face or anything, but because no one could obtain any information about him as if he didn't exist... as if he were a ghost that only appeared for the fights and then disappeared.
Even so, what everyone did know was that he was a formidable opponent.
That night, Namor as Deadpool would face his most dangerous opponent to date: the deadly fighter known as "El Oso". A man known for his ferocity and skill in the ring.
The crowd roared as Deadpool and "El Oso" entered the ring. The air was electric with anticipation. The two fighters faced off in the center of the ring, their eyes shining with intensity.
"El Oso" started the fight with a series of quick and precise blows, but Deadpool managed to dodge most of them using his superhuman speed and agility. While the few hits that landed did no real damage thanks to his tough skin...
And with each blow, "El Oso" felt as if he were fighting against a wall of steel, but he continued seeking a way to win.
Deadpool, on his part, countered with powerful punches, but "El Oso" avoided them easily and launched a roundhouse kick, but Deadpool caught it with one hand and spun, sending "El Oso" to the ground.
Taking advantage of the situation, Deadpool lunged at him, but "El Oso" rolled to the side and got back on his feet, ready to continue the fight.
The fight continued for minutes, with both fighters exchanging blows and showing their skill.
"El Oso" used his experience to try to find a weakness in Deadpool, but Namor seemed unstoppable due to his superior endurance, durability, and strength.
Even if Namor seemed to be at a disadvantage most of the time, the truth was that he would win as soon as he managed to land a good hit on his opponent. The problem was that Namor hadn't managed to do this yet.
"El Oso" launched a series of blows that sent Deadpool against the ropes. "El Oso" tried to continue hitting Deadpool, but Deadpool caught him with a bear hug and lifted him off the ground.
"El Oso" tried to break free, but Deadpool held him firmly.
Finally, he threw "El Oso" to the ground with a powerful slam.
The crowd erupted in applause as Deadpool stood victorious.
After that, Deadpool collected his prize... Although shortly after winning the fight and leaving the illegal fight club, while walking through the dark streets, Namor noticed that a group of four people was following him closely. He tried to lose them as he usually did using his superhuman speed and agility, but to his surprise, they managed to keep up with him.
He decided to confront them and find out what they wanted. He led them to an area near the beach in case he needed to escape.
"Alright, what do you want?" demanded Namor, stopping abruptly and turning to face them.
One of the men, tall and with a scar on his cheek, stepped forward.
"We don't want trouble, Deadpool. We just want to talk"
Namor raised an eyebrow, evaluating the situation.
"Talk quickly"
"You might know us as 'Los 4 Infames'," said the woman in the group, with a cautious smile.
Namor had heard of them, "Los 4 Infames," a criminal group known for stealing valuable items throughout Latin America. They usually stole things only on commission from anonymous clients who paid them huge sums of money.
"We've investigated you... and I must say I admire how you managed to erase any possible information about you," the woman added.
She and the others knew that Deadpool had some way of going completely unnoticed except when he was fighting illegally since there was literally no information about his past or any record of anything unrelated to his fights or possible connections with some underworld members.
"We want to offer you a job, one that we need your help with."
"Oh, and why should I help you?" Namor crossed his arms, looking at them intently and preparing for anything that might happen. He had a perfect escape route and doubted that any of the four could follow him into the depths of the ocean where Xebel was.
Another man, of robust build, intervened.
"We've seen your fights. You're strong, resilient, and fast. We need someone like you for a... special job"
"Huh? What kind of job?" Namor asked, although it was obvious to him that it was just another robbery, and he wasn't interested in starting to steal, no matter how much he earned from it.
The woman took out a map and showed it to Namor.
"We want to steal the crown of Queen Bee. She'll be in Buenos Aires tomorrow for some negotiations…"
"And why do you think I should get involved in this?" Namor asked, frowning. He didn't care much about stealing from a dictator like Queen Bee…. he wasn't against it, but still, the whole situation seemed very problematic. Queen Bee had a lot of power.
The man with the scar stepped closer.
"We'll pay you well. Very well. More than a hundred times what you've earned fighting illegally all this time"
Namor kept his expression impassive but his interest piqued slightly. Though he highly doubted they knew the real amount he earned each time he fought, after all, Myra had multiplied their earnings several times over by betting on him.
"Sounds tempting. But why do you need my help specifically?"
The woman sighed.
"The damn guards protecting the crown are quite skilled and strong. We're thieves, not fighters. We need someone who can handle them while we do the... delicate work," she explained. "Besides, you being a renowned thief is even better since we won't have to deal with you making any mistakes"
Ha, Namor was nearly chuckling, if these guys only knew that his specialty was stealing and not fighting...
"And from what we've discovered and seen of you, it won't be very difficult for you to deal with them with your superhuman body," she purred, giving Namor a heated look, who appeared very different due to his pendant that made him look like a muscular man with long dark black hair, dark brown skin, black eyes and high cheekbones.
Namor considered his options for a moment before nodding slowly. He found it interesting... now that Myra was away, this could be quite exciting.
"Alright..."
"Perfect! Let's go over the details of the plan," said the man with the scar.
The woman unfolded a detailed map of the luxury mansion where Queen Bee would be staying.
"Tomorrow, Queen Bee will arrive in Argentina, and the security at the mansion where she's staying won't be that complex or good, which gives us a golden opportunity to steal her crown once she takes it off"
"Hmm… why is she coming to this country?" Namor asked rather intrigued by the dictator's sudden arrival in a place like this.
"Well, it's said to be for negotiating the acquisition of 200 hectares of private land. She'll use that land for her own purposes, probably espionage or covert military activities. The Argentine authorities will have no authority over that land" the man with the scar replied. "Anyway, what matters to us is that she's coming, and it's our opportunity,"
Namor said nothing more and studied the map, nodding slowly.
"How will we get in?"
"We'll enter through the back entrance, which will be less guarded. You'll take care of the main guards while we steal the crown. Time is of the essence. We need you to get us in and then distract them long enough for us to complete the theft," said the woman, pointing to a route.
"And if they call for more reinforcements?" Namor asked, knowing he could handle a few guards but wasn't confident against a large group. Even with his atlantean physique, he couldn't resist for long against armed people.
"Don't worry, we'll take care of preventing that from happening," she replied with a confident smile.
Namor looked at the four, evaluating their expressions.
"Alright... but if many more guards arrive, I'm out"
"Fair enough, deal, Deadpool," the robust man extended his hand.
Namor shook his hand, sealing the deal. As they prepared for tomorrow's coup, Namor couldn't help but feel a mix of thrill and caution. He knew this job would be risky, but the reward would be worth it. Plus it would be his last robbery and time as Deadpool for at least two years.
….
….
The day of the heist dawned with palpable tension in the air. Namor, under his alias Deadpool, met with "Los 4 Infames" in a hideout near the mansion where Queen Bee was staying. The planning had been meticulous and precise, with every detail reviewed at least twice.
"Ready?" asked the woman known as Sol as she adjusted her mask. The others nodded silently, determination reflected on their faces.
Namor observed them all, memorizing their expressions and gestures.
The team moved with agility, entering through the back entrance as planned. Namor led the group, his strength and speed clearing the way through the minor guards. The hallways were silent, except for the echo of their steps and the occasional creak of their tools.
Finally, they reached the room where Queen Bee's crown was guarded. As Sol had mentioned, the main guard, a burly man with a fierce look, was there, vigilant.
Namor had obtained information about this man, and it seemed he was one of Queen Bee's most skilled and trusted guards. Even with his atlantean physique, it wouldn't be easy to deal with someone like him, especially if he had weapons that could hurt him.
Namor advanced, his gaze fixed on the guard, who naturally noticed him instantly. The two faced off while the group of thieves infiltrated the chamber where the crown was guarded by the latest technology.
The fight between the guard and Namor was fierce. Namor used all his advantages: his superior atlantean strength, endurance, and speed, along with the combat techniques he had learned over time.
But the guard had sturdy armor and blades that, while having little effect on Namor's tough skin, still caused some damage that accumulated with each inflicted cut.
Meanwhile, "Los 4 Infames" worked quickly, disabling the security measures around the crown. Minutes seemed to stretch, each second crucial to the plan's success.
"We've got it!" shouted Sol, lifting the shiny golden crown.
Namor, although in the middle of combat, heard the words he was waiting for. With a final powerful blow to the guard's armor, he pushed him away and turned to the group.
"Time to go!" he shouted, and instantly, the five of them fled at high speed from the place while the guard tried to catch up without success due to their supernatural speed.
...
Once they managed to escape, the five met in a cabin on the beach, quite far from the mansion.
"Good job, Deadpool," said one of the men, smiling with relief.
Namor approached, breathing heavily but with a calculating look.
"Now, the payment."
Sol nodded, amused, pulling out a bag full of cash.
"Here it is. As agreed"
Namor took the bag, but instead of stepping back, he moved with a speed he shouldn't have had after an exhausting fight and considering how heavily he was breathing upon arrival.
In the blink of an eye, he disarmed the four thieves, leaving them stunned and disoriented.
"What are you doing?" screamed Sol, surprised and angry.
Namor just smiled coldly, with a hint of amusement.
"Change of plans. The crown is mine," he said, and before they could react, he knocked them out with a strong blow to each.
Then, Namor rushed towards the exit, the crown in one hand and the bag of money in the other. Upon reaching the beach's edge, without stopping, he dove into the water, swimming towards the depths with the grace of a true atlantean.
As he swam away, he felt the cold sea breeze and the satisfaction of having outsmarted everyone. In one hand, he carried his waterproof briefcase full of cash, while in the other, Queen Bee's crown shone, and a broad smile spread across his face.
He had played his own game and won.
Despite his apparent loyalty to the group, deep down, he always had his own plan, one that only he knew and that would put an end to his time as "Deadpool"
Unknown to Namor, just a few moments after he stole the crown from the hands of the 'Los 4 Infames', a whole group of hooded people appeared at the place and found only the four unconscious bodies.
Amongst this group there were two individuals in particular who were extremely pissed at having lost track of Deadpool again, these two were none others than Dante and Gaston who had been following Deadpool's tracks for a while and today they finally thought were going to be able to catch him, but again they failed and all that was left were his four recent companions whom he didn't seem to have any ties to, as they were unconscious at the site.
…
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Hi!
Well, I just had this idea of doing a fanfic about a SI on a DC atlantean since I never saw atlanteans being explored much before and I found it interesting. I also like the timeline of Young Justice so this followed the canonical YJ timeline but there will be a lot of changes due to the interference of the SI. Anyway, I hope you guys like it and the more feedback and support I get for this story the more motivated I will be to write.
Oh and if anyone has any suggestions or recommendations I am always happy to read them, I am open to all the comments and if there are things that you would like to see I might even use them if I feel they could fit in the development of the plot that I am already creating.