Trial by Combat
Black Manta was the one to strike first.
Flashing yet another long knife—God knows where he had been keeping it—the pirate lunged at Aquaman, slashing his blade. In response, the Atlantean king took a step back, using his trident to casually beat the knife to one side.
This action left Aquaman crossing his trident wielding arm across his chest, which allowed Black Manta to suddenly shoot his free hand out and grab onto its shaft. He shoved the weapon up while driving his knife right for his foe's face.
In response, Aquaman shot his own free hand up and caught Black Manta by the wrist, stopping the knife cold.
There was no telling how long that stalemate would have lasted as Batman intervened. Appearing behind Black Manta, he wrapped an arm around the man's throat, his other hand reaching over the pirate's shoulder so he could grab onto the forearm of the knife-holding hand. Gritting his teeth, the vigilante pulled Black Manta back, throwing the man off of his balance. He slid to one side as he forced the man down onto the floor, slamming him down on the floor.
However, before the Dark Knight could ensure Black Manta stayed down, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Jerking his head, he saw Aquaman charging in, leading with the prongs of his trident. Internally swearing, Batman lunged towards the charging king, putting himself between the two men. He threw his hands up, managing to grab onto the shaft of the trident just below the prongs with one hand, and the right prong. There was some surprising strength behind the bladed weapon, and the Dark Knight felt himself being shoved backwards.
"What are you doing?!" Aquaman demanded.
"Stopping you from making a decision you'll regret," he shot back through gritted teeth.
"Get out of my way, or I'll kill you with that bastard!"
Well, there wasn't much reason for trying for further conversation. Releasing his hold on the prong, Batman spun to one side, which brought the trident right behind his back. Bending his arm, he swung his bent arm up, his elbow striking just above where Aquaman's hands were gripping the weapon while simultaneously pulling the trident downward.
This ripped the weapon out of the Atlantean king's hands. Dancing away, Batman spun the trident around his body until he was holding it with both hands. He stood with his profile to the Atlantean, pointing the prongs of the trident at him. Aquaman just blinked his eyes owlishly in confusion.
Black Manta reacted and seized at the unintentional opportunity. Shoving himself up onto his feet, the man kept himself crouched, a pack on his back suddenly blasted out fire, and launched himself towards Aquaman. "REEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" he roared as he tried to stab the blond man with his knife.
Aquaman immediately got a hand up to stop the knife, grabbing Black Manta by his forearm again. However, the sudden blast from the jetpack forced both men backwards until they hit the wall of the reactor.
Swearing inside of his head, Batman leapt towards the two men. Holding the trident out like a bat, his grip towards the butt of the staff, he swung the trident, the flat side of it striking Black Manta against the side of his head. There was a dull gong sound as Black Manta stopped his struggling, appearing dazed as he stared at Aquman.
Taking advantage of this, Aquaman shoved the pirate back with both of his arms before he leaned back against the wall. Lifting up a foot, he kicked it out, landing the kick to Black Manta's abdomen. The force of the blow sent the man flying backwards, Batman jerking himself out of the way so that he wasn't inadvertently hit by the flying pirate.
He wasn't able to see where or how Black Manta landed as Aquaman was storming right up to the vigilante. Batman immediately held the trident at his side, the bladed prongs at his hip. He backed away a few feet before he thrusted the weapon at the Atlantean, causing him to back off a step.
Pulling back the trident, Batman began thrusting and pulling the weapon back over and over, more to keep Aquaman at bay. It worked in that regard as the blond man kept his distance, darting from side to side. "Give me—" Aquaman began, stopping as he jerked out of the path of another thrust, "-back—" another dodge, "-my trident."
Leaping backwards to gain some more distance, Batman then lunged forward, driving the end of the trident into the floor. He then used the grounded weapon as a pole vault, launching him into the air. Leaning backwards while extending a leg, he landed a flying kick to Aquaman's face, the king stumbling backwards from the blow.
Bouncing off of the blond man, Batman landed on the floor before he darted to his left, passing out of the reactor and into the corridor that led to it. Pulling out his grapple gun again, he then took aim and fired it at the king.
Aquaman reacted to this by holding an arm up, the grapple claw latching onto his forearm. He then promptly reached out with the same arm and grabbed onto the cable. With incredible strength, he yanked hard on the line, ripping the grapple gun out of Batman's hands.
And then the man did something incredible. With a flick of his wrist, Aquaman arched the grapple gun up into the air before he lashed out with it. Batman jerked backwards so as not to get hit with his own weapon. Swinging his arm back and forth as he entered the corridor, Aquaman kept whipping the grapple gun back and forth. The entire time, the Dark Knight kept backing away so as not to get hit.
But then there was movement back at the reactor. Emerging out of it was Black Manta, carrying the trident in one hand. Hefting it up, he held the weapon with both hands over one shoulder by his head. He then charged at Aquaman, fully intent on running him through with his own weapon.
"Look out!" Batman shouted, which caused Aquaman to frown before he turned around. Immediately, he ducked to one side, avoiding Black Manta's thrust with the trident, which was aimed high. Undeterred by his miss, the pirate pulled the trident back before thrusting again, the Atlantean again dodging to the other side of the corridor.
Pulling back the trident, Black Manta then held it out right in front of him, as far as it could reach. Aquaman reached out with his own hand to grab onto it.
This turned out to be a bad idea as Black Manta leaned over and activated his jetpack again. Blasting forward, he shoved the trident forward, which Aquaman was unable to stop as the ends of the prongs dug right into his armored chest. They didn't sink far, though whether that was due to the armor or Aquaman grabbing onto the shaft of the trident with both hands was unknown. The two men lifted off of the floor and flew down the hallway, Batman throwing himself against the wall to avoid getting hit as well.
As they passed by, two arms extended out of the jetpack and rose above Black Manta's shoulders. From the angle he had, Batman couldn't tell what they were. When they each fired a missile, he learned quickly that they were rocket launchers, ones that were fired at point blank range at Aquaman. There was an explosion, one that muffled Aquaman's cries as he was hit.
Alright, something had to be done about that jetpack. Reaching to his belt, Batman pulled out a shuriken, pressing his thumb into its body. This caused a red light to glow, and then he threw the projectile. Even with Black Manta landing on his feet on the floor, the bat-shaped shuriken was on-target, one sharp end digging into the jetpack.
A couple seconds later and the shuriken exploded, covering Black Manta in a cloud of smoke and fire. This, inadvertently, blocked Batman's view of the fight as the smoke filled the corridor. With any luck, that explosion damaged the jetpack.
Now he just had to see how the two mortal enemies were doing.
He would have gotten onto unsteady legs, but water was an unexpected support. Green Lantern was breathing deeply, peering through all the fish to try and keep track of Scavenger.
Trying was the key word. It had become clear that this man was better at underwater combat and had a suit designed to help him with it. He, on the other hand, did not. It was his will alone that kept him from being crushed by the pressure around him, and any lapse with that would be it.
A Green Lantern he may be, but John Stewart was still a man all the same.
Forming a barrier around himself when he couldn't spot his opponent, he didn't need to wait long for Scavenger's next strike. It came from his blind spot, but the hit against his shield alerted the dark-skinned man to the attack. Whipping his head about, he spun and fired a beam from his ring, letting the barrier collapse while blasting Scavenger back and away from him.
This had the effect of hiding Scavenger in this school of fish, one whose numbers were starting to shrink. A little more visibility was nice and—that was a shark. A blue shark. Not the largest of its kind, but they tended to be aggressive around humans.
It was also a distraction, and it was just in time that he was able to bring his barrier back up. Scavenger rammed into the shield, but instead of remaining where he was, the man in the deep sea suit continued to jet over him. Lucky for him, his shield was spherical, so no need to worry about his back.
Well, maybe a little. A jet-powered punch struck that part of the shield, and the Lantern gritted his teeth from the mental strain he felt. The balance he held with maintaining the shield and maintaining the aura around himself almost went unbalanced and even through the shield he could feel the oceanic pressure.
Scavenger hit the same spot at least two more times before backing off and using the marine life around him to hide. The stress of this fight wasn't going away. Somehow, he needed to turn things around. Damn it, in Brightest Day and Darkest Night! This man needed to beware his power.
Alright fine. It took the barest effort of will to force the barrier around him to expand, rushing in all directions as he made its diameter bigger. Fish and sharks were shoved out of the way, and so was Scavenger who was knocked back. There that asshole was.
From his ring, he unleashed several chain constructs, ones that raced out and through the fading shield, and wrapped around Scavenger tightly. Raising his arm up then down, he brought the deep sea fighter down, slamming him against the hull of the ship they were fighting on. Up again, and down. Once more. He swung his arm about for the fourth slam.
Releasing the chains, he breathed deeper than he had expected. With as much movement as he had done, fighting against the water to move took up more energy than he had thought. Still, hopefully that knocked Scavenger for a loop.
The harpoon didn't have the same problems moving as he did and he cried out as the pointed tip stabbed into his shoulder, piercing right through and nicking one of the hoses connecting his Atlantean-made helmet to the air tank he had on his back. Air was hissing out through the puncture, and ironically the pain he felt sharpened his mind enough to put two and two together.
The aura around his body protected him from threats that could not be seen, such as gravity, radiation, and apparently oceanic pressure. Solid objects could still cause harm to him and the effort of will needed to keep that aura up was greater than you can imagine.
But he did not panic. Quickly, he created a construct to act as a sealant to cover up the puncture to the air hose and prevent any further loss of air. With that taken care of—
Blunt force tackled him, knocked him off of his feet and back through the water. Two hands came together and fell down, jackhammering the Lantern's body downward. His back struck the submarine's hull, and a booted foot slammed down onto his torso, pinning him down. The harpoon spear jostled in his shoulder, sending stabbing pain through his body.
It was almost like being back in boot camp.
A gloved hand clamped down on the front of the Lantern's helmet. Though his vision of Scavenger was now blocked, he heard him clearly. "You're a tough one. How tough will you be without that helmet you're wearing."
There was a groan, followed by a squealing, and it didn't take long for Green Lantern to realize what that was. Scavenger was applying pressure, probably with strength augmented by that armored suit he was wearing. Regardless, Scavenger was trying to compromise the helmet's integrity, or at the very least cause the transparent window of glass that allowed the Lantern to see to crack. If that happened, his ring would really be tested by the decompression, the pressure of being this deep, and the sudden loss of oxygen.
This couldn't happen.
Flexing his wrist, a simple thought had a construct form, this one a torpedo. Something with a lot of surface area would have been slowed down, and he had noted before how those projectiles moved faster than himself or anything else down here. It seemed very appropriate to use one to save himself.
Knocked away, Scavenger kept his footing while struggling with the construct. Green Lantern pushed himself up while the fish around him began to vacate the area. Visibility was no longer a question.
The jets in Scavenger's gauntlets fired off, and the armor-wearing man wrested the torpedo construct away from him. Grunting, the larger man stared down the dark-skinned Lantern while taking a step towards him.
This fight wasn't over yet. Yet…something felt off. His gut was warning him that danger was incoming. Belatedly, he recalled the swarming school of fish and how only now they were moving away. Or leaving. Why was that important?
Forget about it, there was a much more dangerous threat in Scavenger. The man in armor was approaching, and Green Lantern held his arm at the ready. He needed to think and think quickly. What could he use to put this man down and stop him from being a threat? The obvious was to compromise that deep sea suit, but he couldn't be sure he could protect the man from the environmental forces out here.
The great white shark that suddenly crashed into Scavenger, its powerful jaws clamping down on the armored deep sea suit, brought any and all thoughts Green Lantern had to a stop.
He hadn't expected that. Neither had Scavenger as he was carried off by the great white, the apex predator disappearing into the depths in seconds with its prize. With how swift it had gone, Green Lantern felt himself stuck in a stupor before the details finally caught up and attempted to give chase.
Reaching the edge of the submerged ship, the Lantern searched for any sign of the shark or Scavenger, finding none. Wherever they had gone to…he would have to follow if he could. He wasn't about to let blind luck finish this or cause a death, not on his watch.
With all of the marine life swarming about along with the combat between this enemy force and Atlantis, this wasn't going to be easy. He still had to try. Into the chaos he glided, determined
The whirlpool began to slow. J'onn was somewhere in there, or at least Diana hoped he was. She had lost track of the Martian, and there weren't any other bizarre monsters he could become around. A number of Black Manta's submarines and Atlantean ships were distributed across the ocean floor, the result of the whirlpool.
Diana stood in a field of destroyed crab robots. Some of them had been caught up in the whirlpool's current, but for those that avoided it, the Amazon had taken care of. She stood next to the remains of one such robot, a foot perched on its broken hull, her hands on her hips. She looked out across the area, the city of Atlantis helping to light up the underwater depths. She wasn't seeing much in active warfare.
Aside from that one submarine crashing nose down into the seabed several yards away.
Diana looked as a sub stood straight up and down like a flag pole. That wasn't an evasive maneuver she was familiar with, but she wasn't too startled. It sort of helped that she recognized Superman at the tail end of the sub, the clear reason why the sub had done a nose dive to begin with.
The sub continued to sink further into the muddy ground until the Kryptonian was certain it would no longer be a threat. Then he pulled off and drifted over to the Amazonian warrior. "I think that's the last of them," he announced as he landed next to her.
The dark-haired woman looked around. "I do not see any other sources of conflict. Where is J'onn?"
"I am here."
Rising up from the seabed was the Martian, his form transparent as he rose up right in front of them. His color filled in a moment later, not looking the least bit affected by the water pressure down here. Even with the suit she wore, Diana could feel the pressure all around her. In the heat of battle, she had come to ignore it, but as things were winding down, she was beginning to notice it once more.
"How are the crews of these subs?" Superman asked.
"Unconscious," J'onn replied, continuing with his telepathic communication. "The only active minds are the remaining Atlantean forces, who are currently withdrawing back to the city."
That was good news. They didn't need any opportunistic Atlanteans deciding to finish off the invading force. While it may win them points with their king, it would only lead to the needless deaths of hundreds of men.
However, not all was done here. "Did anyone encounter Black Manta?" she couldn't help but ask.
"I didn't," Superman quickly answered.
"Nor I," J'onn added.
And if she hadn't, did that mean Black Manta was still around here? Or did he flee when he realized the battle was not going in his favor? "J'onn, can you seek out his mind?"
The only response she got was the Martian's eyes glowing orange. Clearly he was seeking out the international pirate. Unable to keep to herself, Diana turned her head and began searching the surrounding area with her eyes. While that was a futile exercise, it was better than just waiting there.
"I have him." Her head turned back to J'onn, though there was an alarmed look on his face. "I sense that he is inside of the city."
This time, Superman joined the Amazon in whipping around back towards Atlantis. No doubt, the dark-haired man was using his X-Ray Vision to get a visual on the man. "I see something," he confirmed a few moments later. "I…I think a sub managed to breach the city."
That caused Diana's stomach to drop. Here they were, stopping the fighting around the city that they hadn't considered that it spilled into Atlantis proper. No wonder the Atlantean ships had returned home; they had been ordered to, or informed of the situation and were rushing to confront it.
"Then we need to make certain no further damage comes to Atlantis," she declared. Without waiting for further word, she took off through the water, racing towards the underwater city. She had no doubt Superman and J'onn would be right behind her.
The smoke was thinning, but it was still difficult to see very far. An exploding jetpack apparently made a rather thick smokescreen. It wasn't advisable to go into it due to whatever fumes were present in the air.
Batman didn't see that he had much of a choice.
No doubt that if Aquaman or Black Manta found one another, they would resume trying to kill each other. He had to stop that at all costs. Venturing into the cloud, he could see it thinning more and more. The lighting had been damaged during the explosion, which left the corridor partially lit. One light was even flickering over and over.
The vigilante scanned the area around him, slowly creeping around. He could see scorched areas on the wall and ceiling, making him wonder just how big of an explosion had been caused. Black Manta had to be hurt by it, no question.
As he went further and further, he noticed something on the wall, rather something missing. There were a number of hooks on the wall where something had been hanged. Based off of the outline, it looked like some sort of gun. A label beneath the hooks indicated it was a harpoon gun.
The fact that the harpoon gun was missing wasn't a good thing.
He kept going until the toe of his boot struck something. Looking down, the dark-clad man spotted Aquaman's trident. Kneeling down, he picked it up, holding it in both hands. Eyeing it, he noticed some blood on the prongs. Apparently it had been able to breach Aquaman's armor.
A sound caught his attention. Spinning around to face it, he caught sight of a backhand just before it struck him across his face. Pain erupted through his face as the vigilante was sent flying through the air. Gravity eventually set in and Batman landed on his back on the floor, skidding across it until he came to a stop.
It took a moment for him to shake off the stars he was seeing, but when he did, he spotted Aquaman above him. He reached down and grabbed the trident the vigilante had somehow held onto, wrenching it out of his grasp. Then the Atlantean king pulled a foot back and swung it forward. The kick sent Batman skidding further down the hallway he was in.
Gritting his teeth, Batman slowly forced himself onto his feet. Those last couple of blows had been harder than he had anticipated, so he was having a tough time shrugging them off. That was unfortunate as Aquaman was storming towards him, a scowl on his face.
"Since you won't stop interfering where you don't belong," the blond man said, "I'll see to it you won't ever interfere with me again."
Batman began to edge backwards. A hand fell to his belt, seeking out one of the many compartments. He needed to use a means of distraction, get himself some distance from the enraged Atlantean, and he had a choice in mind.
However, he never got a chance to use it. Appearing out of the darkness behind Aquaman was Black Manta, the harpoon gun held up high. He didn't disguise his running as he charged at the Atlantean. All of the noise he made was the only reason why Aquaman wasn't killed right then and there.
Aquaman spun around, throwing up his trident just in time to block Black Manta's attack. The pirate stabbed the harpoon gun at the Atlantean man, the blade scratching against the shaft of the trident before it was shoved upwards and away from the king's head. Undeterred, Black Manta yanked the harpoon back before stabbing with it again. Once more, Aquaman blocked it with his trident.
Then the pirate backed off a step, lowering the harpoon gun to his hip. He then fired it, sending the harpoon right into Aquaman's chest. The harpoon embedded itself in the blond man's arm, the force actually knocking him back a step or two.
"Now I've got you1" Black Manta shouted as his eyes began to glow red. He then blasted the Atlantean point blank with his heat blast.
The blast was large, seemingly covering the entire hallway. There was one place that wasn't however, and that was right behind Aquaman himself. Batman threw himself into this one spot to avoid taking any damage from the attack, gritting his teeth as he felt the intense heat.
And then the blast abruptly stopped. Taking a moment, Batman glanced towards the two men and found that Aquaman, while sporting some burns on his armor, had taken action and closed the distance between himself and Black Manta. His trident has caught onto the pirate's wetsuit, the man looking down at the trident in disbelief.
Aquaman then hefted the weapon up, lifting Black Manta up into the air. The king swung his arch enemy over his head before swinging him down, slamming him down hard on the floor. Batman had to jump back to avoid getting hit himself. He was left to stare down at Black Manta looking like a crumpled heap on the floor.
His attention was drawn back to the Atlantean king as Aquaman moved to stand over his fallen foe, holding his trident above his head, ready to stab it downward.
Without hesitation, Batman slipped out a smoke pellet, throwing and watching it fly through the air and strike Aquaman against his chest. A cloud of smoke erupted out of the pellet, creating a smokescreen that enveloped the blond haired man. Immediately, the king began to cough and gag, trying to clear his lungs due to breathing in the smoke.
While that wasn't his intent, Batman would take it for now. He reached back to his belt, trying to pull out one of his sedative-coated shuriken. The only way these two were going to stop fighting was when one of them was dead, or both of them were unconscious. He knew which one he preferred.
Then, "I have had enough!" Aquaman bellowed. He waved a hand in front of his face, clearing the air of the black-tinged smoke. He then raised his trident, pointing the prongs right in Batman's—and subsequently Black Manta's—direction. The trident began to glow a brilliant light. Bolts of electricity seemed to flow off of the weapon.
That couldn't be good.
The entire corridor was filled with the light then, a powerful blast ramming right into the Dark Knight, causing him to cry out as he was thrown backwards. Time lost all meaning as he seemed to fly forever.
And then he hit the ground. He bounced over it over and over until he came to a stop. It was a moment before he felt like he could breathe, taking long, deep pants. He couldn't see much as it seemed the bright light had fried his optic nerve. While he intellectually knew that was an exaggeration, it didn't mean he didn't feel that way.
Eventually, he was able to see again and found he was no longer in the submarine. In fact, there was a large gaping hole in the side of it, the edges blooming outwards with melted edges.
Black Manta wasn't that far away from him either, the man panting as well. Whatever attack Aquaman had used, it had blasted them out of the submarine. It was a miracle neither one of them was killed by it.
And then Aquaman appeared in the hole, planting the butt end of his trident on the ground next to him. He gazed down at the two men before he dropped out of the sub and onto the ground.
This was going to get very ugly real quick.
Booted feet landed on the paved stone. Orin rose up to his full height, his eyes laser focused on Manta. He noted that Batman was close by, but that man was not important.
What was was that his enemy, the murderer of his child, now stood in his city. His grip on his trident tightened.
Movement in his periphery alerted him that they weren't alone. Mera and the students from the Conservatory were close by, ensuring that the city wasn't flooded due to the breach in the dome. Members of the city guard had taken post to look over them and make sure they weren't endangered.
Now? Now their attention would be on them, the King, Manta, and the prisoner Batman. The Guard could see their king standing over his opponents and they quickly began to form a perimeter. There would be no escape.
Batman was standing up, no doubt planning something. Orin merely called out, "Mera," and in response, his wife restrained the vigilante. Water that stained the ground rose up and wrapped around the black-clad man, keeping his arms pinned and binding his legs.
Without looking, Orin raised his trident and unleashed a pulse of energy, one that struck flying projectiles that were thrown at him. The projectiles were destroyed, and a portion of a nearby building ruptured. A black form leapt off of it, but then found itself also restrained with water. It was a lithe individual, one also clad in black though they were smaller than Batman.
Interesting.
"Release her!" Batman barked, a couple guards backing away from the vigilante. "If you even harm—"
"No harm will come to your collaborator," Orin interrupted, sparing a meaningful look towards Mera. "You have my word." Then he returned his attention to Manta was keeping low to the ground, crouched. "There is only one here I intend to harm."
Manta glared at him. "Is this how it ends? How you want it to end?"
"He's not worth destroying your soul," Batman argued.
Orin brough the butt end of his trident down onto the stone. The sharp rap of the mystical metal against the smoothed rock was loud enough to cut off anything else that may have been said while drawing all attention to the king.
"We Atlanteans are an ancient people with an old-fashioned sense of justice,' he declared, his voice projecting. "You, you who have caused us so much pain. You attack me. You attack my city, my people. You murder my son. This is only one method of justice for you."
"This isn't justice," Batman growled. He was ignored.
Black Manta did not speak, his eyes undoubtedly full of hatred behind those red lenses.
Standing tall, King Orin declared, "Trial by combat. You want my head, Manta? Fine. Here's your chance." Looking to a nearby guard, one who carried a trident, he issued his next order, "You. Give him your weapon."
The guard stood straighter, eyes wide, but then they narrowed and a sharp nod was given. The trident, dark in color, was tossed towards the two unrestrained men, clattering near Black Manta where it came to a rest. Manta looked at the weapon, his body tense.
"What will it be, Manta?" the Atlantean king prodded. "You and me, as it always should have been. As it always should have remained."
"And you with the power of that trident?" Manta mocked.
"I will invoke none of it," he promised. "Everything I am, as a man, as a king, and as a father, that is what I give to you. No might of Atlantis, just my might."
A hand clad in black reached out and gripped the shaft of the offered trident. Manta remained crouched, still as a predator about to go on the attack. When he spoke, "Then I will have your head at last."
Sputtering propulsion blasted from the pack he wore, one last charge not spent in the explosion, and Manta was rocketing towards him. Orin awaited him, trident held at the ready until the inevitable clash occurred. The ancient metals of each trident collided with one another, Manta pushing while Orin pushed back.
True to his word, Orin did not unleash the power within the trident. He didn't want this to be quick. This was going to end with flesh and bone and muscle. This was going to be painful, exacting.
His little Aquababy deserved no less.
With his own strength, he shoved Manta back, the pirate stumbling but keeping his balance. Manta, however, was quick to recover and lunged back, stabbing with his borrowed trident. Orin slipped out of the way, keeping his eyes on the trident's prongs as the bastard thrust at him again and again.
His footwork kept him out of danger, backing up as Manta pressed his assault. Once he had begun to anticipate the next strike, the Atlantean king parried the next thrust and jabbed back with the butt end of his trident. Manta threw himself back, then charged again for a frontal assault, but unlike earlier, Orin knocked aside each and every attack thrown at him.
Now he went on the attack, pushing forth his own assault with slashes and stabs. Manta retreated, but the bastard knew he could not go too far. The Guard would make sure of that, though they would not interfere any further than preventing escape.
He chose to test his enemy's defense, each strike holding back to gauge how quickly they would be blocked or avoided. It gave Manta a chance to change from defense to offense, and the king allowed this but for a moment. As the pirate lunged again, Orin slipped out of the way while ramming the shaft of his trident into the helmeted man's back.
Manta thrusted the pronged end of his weapon into the ground and used it to keep himself from falling. He used momentum to spin himself around, the lens of his helmet glowing hellishly. The Atlantean sovereign knew what was coming from experience, and he dodged the twin blasts of energy fired at him.
That should have been the cue to retaliate with his trident's power, but no. Now he rushed as the beams came to an end. He leapt across the remaining distance, kicking out with a leg which struck Manta in his torso, forcing him away from his loaned weapon. From above, he stabbed down with his golden trident, Manta catching it by the prongs and stopping the sharp tips from piercing into his helmet.
There was too much force that Orin was using with this attack, and the bastard knew it. Instead of trying to match strength with strength, Manta pushed the trident to a side, letting the sharp tips graze against his suit until it fully missed. A gloved fist swung and struck Orin right in his face, causing his head to jerk back from the blow.
He retaliated with an elbow, jabbing the joint into Manta's ribs. Gripping his trident with both hands, he swung the golden weapon about, shoving the pirate away. Booted feet skidded across the cobblestone, and then Manta took off into a run, dashing for his borrowed trident.
Orin gave chase, but fully expected to be late. Manta was yanking the weapon out from the smoothed stone, and the maneuver cost the man time which the king used to lash out. Manta was able to block, metal clashing against metal with a sharp ring.
Back and forth, tridents colliding with one another, each fighter searching for an opening. Slashes and thrusts, slices and blocks, stabs and parries, one after another, neither gaining the upper hand.
Orin could feel the rage with each attack that slammed into his defense from Manta. He answered that wrath with his own, always pushing his enemy back, his enemy needing to circle about so as to not reach the edge of the perimeter. He followed, not letting up.
First blood came soon enough. Manta was the one to claim it. Perhaps he had been holding back too much, or maybe it was Manta himself growing more desperate. It didn't matter the why, only that one of the pirate's thrusts gashed the king's arm, cutting through the orange armor and piercing the skin under it. He could feel the pain, cutting and slicing into him, aggravating the injury from the harpoon.
His counter was almost instinctive, a simple slash with his trident, but that was more to gain distance. Ignoring the pain in his arm, Orin gave a yell as he charged, thrusting with his golden weapon, missing as the attack was dodged. He didn't let up, following and thrusting again and again.
The pain in his arm could be ignored. Everything could be. He could see Manta trying to reverse his defense, try and go on the offensive, and so he let him, spinning around his adversary. Keeping his hands close to his trident's pronged end, he forced his weapon up as he spun, ramming the three sharp prongs into the pack on Manta's back.
He ripped it out, Manta jerking about as a cry escaped him. Before the bastard could recover, Orin spun his trident about and slashed, snagging and cutting through one of the hoses connected to that recognizable helmet. Air burst out of it while Manta turned himself around, trying to face the Atlantean king.
The lenses were glowing once more. Enough with them. He swung his trident forth, stabbing the outermost prongs into each lens, the middle prong piercing into the front of that helmet but not going deep. Energy flared out spastically, and Orin could feel the heat against the side of his face. He had to pull back.
Manta kept ahold of his borrowed trident with one hand; the other desperately reached up to the damaged helmet and tore it off as quickly as the panicking man was capable. Throwing it aside, Manta's scarred face was exposed to every pair of eyes around, and the hatred that seemed imprinted on it glared defiantly back at the king.
Perhaps you could say they were finally face to face. It had been years since Arthur—Orin had last seen that face. The first had been on that fateful night aboard that submersible ship. Manta had been so young then, unmarred, yet cold as ice all the same. The scars of their conflict were cut deeply into that ebony skin, hardened by all the misery and hate that both of them spared no expense to give to the other.
It felt as if that helmet was Manta's true face, not this.
Manta lunged again, and once more Orin met him. Neither were willing to back down. The blows were becoming more brutal. One thrust sliced into Manta's side, and another thrust cut into Orin's shoulder. The shaft of one trident bashed into Manta's face. The prongs of the other trident nearly impaled Orin's torso.
One particular back and forth had Manta locking the prongs of his loaned trident around the golden shaft's of Orin's, and with a twist of hie weapon, the pirate wretch the mighty symbol of Atlantis out of its king's hands, sending it clattering away.
Continuing to spin the trident about, Manta drove it downwards and into the king's upper leg, finally drawing a yell of pain from the blond-haired man. He had to kneel, gripping at his impaled thigh while Manta stood above him.
Removing one hand from his trident's shaft, Manta withdrew a long, serrated blade from his person. "Remember this?" the black-skinned man taunted. "This is the same knife you murdered my father with."
It did look familiar.
"You took his life with it," Manta continued, seething, "and now I return the favor."
He had to pry his hands from his leg to catch Manta's arms before the knife could reach his neck. It was still close, the tip of the blade inching closer and closer as Manta leveraged his higher position to push back against him.
His arm was killing him. His leg throbbed. His neck could be stabbed at any second. No help would come, not in a trial by combat. His people did respect that law, as much as he hoped they would intervene.
An ancient people with an old-fashion sense of justice.
There was no joy in Manta's eyes; only determination and rage, fiery yet so cold and dead at the same time. As personal as this was, this man did not take any pleasure in it. His hatred, his rage, it was nothing more than breathing to him.
Arthur—Orin understood this. He understood better than he should have. He had never been able to uncover much about the man who was Manta's father. All he could say for certain, underneath all of the cruelty, the tit-for-tat, the pain and misery caused on all sides, Manta had loved his father. Just another grieving man.
A baby's coo, a tiny hand that once gripped his finger, and eyes a brilliant shade of green that would…that would…
Manta wasn't the only man grieving. Manta was the one who had dragged an innocent child into this. Murdered him…
As he had years ago, his hands slid up to Manta's wrists and thumbs pressed into the space just beneath the palms of the hands. The tip of the knife swung away, but unlike the last time, he did not roll himself backwards. This time, as he yelled with exertion, he pulled and yanked Manta to a side, forcing his foe into a sideways flip.
Manta rolled, and while he got back to his feet, Arthur gripped the shaft of the trident stabbing into his leg and pulled it out, ignoring the blood that spewed from the wound. He didn't care, he didn't care if that made things worse, put his life at risk, none of it mattered anymore.
His son was dead, and his killer still lived.
He threw the trident, the weapon racing through the air with such speed that it would kill anything in its way. Manta threw himself out of its path, and the guards circling around them did the same, narrowly avoiding the thrown trident until it struck and impaled the side of a building.
Not paying attention to the cracks that formed from the impact, Arthur tackled the distracted Manta, grappling for the Goddamn knife that had set this all into motion. Manta resisted, attempting to try to stab him again, but he caught the blade with his bare hand, the knife's edge biting into his palm. Blood was seeping out from around his hand and between his fingers; he didn't care.
The knife was wretched out of Manta's hand, but Arthur was not done with it. He jabbed the butt of that knife into Manta's face, stunning him. With careless abandon, he tossed the knife away, hands injured and uninjured balling into fists.
It was punches that followed. To the side of Manta's head. To his torso. To his gut. Again and again he lashed out. Each blow jerked Manta's body, forcing him back step by step. One particular punch to the jaw sent bloody spittle out of the pirate's mouth, the crimson liquid staining the ground.
Manta caught the following punch, then raised a leg up and kicked it into the king's stomach. He took it, pushed past the discomfort to lash out again only to miss. Manta's next hit was for his leg and the open wound that continued to bleed. Arthur cried out from the searing pain, and answered it by catching and holding onto Manta's arm.
He pushed, Manta pushed back, the two of them spinning each other around with stumbling steps. So many eyes on them, and all of them were ignored. The gaze of Mera, the watch of his people, the disapproval from Batman, and on the other side of the dome, peering through, three individuals who floated in the waters beyond who were not Atlantean, more than likely Justice League reinforcement.
All were spectators to the final act of this horrible play. To bear witness to his pain and grief. To Manta's death.
Finally, they broke apart, but Arthur would not back off so easily. He tackled into Manta once more, swinging punch after punch, not caring where they landed. He just needed to hurt this man, hurt him so much he could never hurt another person again. Manta tried to resist, like he always did, but the memories of his son drove the grief-stricken man to ignore anything that struck against him.
Something gave, the ribs. Manta finally cried out in pain. This only spurred him on like a shark tasting blood. Funny analogy, but so appropriate. His fists slammed again and again into Manta, breaking through feeble defense to strike the deceptively soft body. His knuckles buried into a jaw, snapping Manta's head about.
It almost became a blur. He had no idea how many times he hit this monster in human form. All he did know was that he could feel each hit reverberate up his arms, muscles tremoring from exertion, and nerves tingling with electricity. Skin was breaking, flecks of blood spewing out, and his vision nearly going white.
In that whiteness, he could only see a memory. A precious, precious little bundle, with a chubby little face and eyes that were so wide so it was all the easier to see everything, and the little smiles from cherubic lips, and the joy, the joy, the joy…
Robbed away, stolen in an instant.
And in an instant, Black Manta fell to the ground where he remained. His face was swelling, skin was gashed open, and eyes were swollen tightly together. The rest of his damaged body was limp, and Arthur barely recognized or remembered causing any injuries under that black suit. He had to blink, the sight so surreal.
Lightheadedness had him stumbling away, then falling into his knees. A hand reached and acted as a means of propping himself up. Breathing was…hard, and he gasped and gulped for as much air as he could. Something was brushing against a fingertip, and when he was able to focus, he found that his trusty trident was right there, waiting for him.
It didn't take much to grasp it, but the effort to raise it up was more than he had anticipated. His grip was tight, but his arm was trembling. Yet, he was able to get the symbol of his authority planted onto the stone ground. From there, it was using it to pull himself back onto his feet.
His leg was screaming at him, and black spots dotted his vision, but no, no, he still had more to give.
To give to his son who would never receive it.
The look of joy on Mera's face as she gazed upon their little bundle of miracle, beaming as she looked up to him.
With an unsteady shuffle, he approached the prone Manta, the one true sign of life being the rise and fall of the bastard's chest. Arthur found himself standing over him, maintaining his balance by using his trident as a crutch.
The pride Orm shined, clasping him on the shoulder as he offered his congratulations.
Look at him. After everything, it came to this, with him standing over a broken man who was as helpless as his son had been. As if sensing him, Manta was able to turn his head, cracking open his eyes, though one was nearly swollen shut. Stone cold and defiance remained in those dead eyes.
The grief and sorrow that Mera gave as she cradled the bundle of cloth and their pride and joy who would never know another day, surrounded by the hollow remains of that research station. Orm closed off and stoic, exuding strength for those who had none and standing guard in case of a threat. The misery and depression on young Garth's face, never again to look him in the eye.
He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, blood rushing up to his brain, too much, and the pressure he felt in his own skull… He couldn't seem to get enough air.
The nights where he held his sobbing wife. The mausoleum where their son was interred, which should not have been filled in his lifetime and yet was. Garth avoiding the palace. His family…breaking apart.
Raising a foot up, he placed it onto Manta's torso, a futile act of pinning the monster down. Two hands gripped the shaft of the golden trident, and with what felt like superhuman strength, he hefted it up into the air, angling it so that the sharp-tipped prongs were aimed downwards. He had to adjust his grip and the positioning of his hands to accomplish this, but he managed.
Withdrawing from the surface. Withdrawing into himself. Hunting, always hunting, Black Manta, chasing him across every ocean and sea, never letting up, never giving up. The rage and fury that burned within, fueling him for this very moment.
Shoulders raised up and fell with each pant, the trident shook in his unsteady grip, and the lightheadedness returned with a vengeance. Vision was almost double, everything an afterimage of itself. It was hard to focus, but he had to push past it. Arthur could not let it hold him back.
A high pitched giggle…
Black Manta coughed, his bloodied lips pulled back into a sneer. Words were coming out.
A tiny hand grabs his finger…
"At least…my son still lives."
Arthur Curry Jr. smiles up at him.
A scream of grief and rage tears out of his throat as he brings his trident down.
Author's Note: Care to guess what happens next?