Author's Note: Another story completed, and we know what you want. What comes next? Answers are at the bottom, but before you go there, enjoy.

Oceans

Cross the oceans in my mind

Find the strength to say goodbye

Everything that we believed in was a lie

Cross the oceans in your mind

Find a way to blur the line

In the end you never can wash the blood from your hands

-Oceans by Evanescence

Batman stared. He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

The trident, it had missed.

Aquaman stood with one foot on Black Manta's chest, the latter hardly offering any resistance. The trident had struck the ground next to his head, maybe an inch away from actually penetrating his skull.

Black Manta just stared up at the Atlantean. From this angle, it was hard to see what expression was on his face.

Aquaman just stared down at the man. His posture wavered and his eyes became unfocused. He tried to shake off his daze, but it seemed to come right back.

Restrained by coils of water, Batman couldn't move. He could do anything and neither could Batgirl. However, his eyes did fall to Aquaman's leg, where a trident had punctured the man's leg. There was quite a bit of blood there. Could blood loss be the reason why he had missed at point blank range?

His hand shaking, the king gripped his trident and began to tug on it. Clearly he was going for another try.

"Stop it!" Batman shouted, which caused the man to pause. "That's enough! He's beaten!"

"He's not dead," Aquaman spat back, raising his tired eyes to the vigilante. He was losing color in his face, making him look quite pale. "This isn't over until I've killed the bastard."

"And what will that solve? Satisfying your tradition? Will it make you feel better?" Batman shook his head. "Just look at yourself. You can hardly stand. The both of you are standing on one leg. Is your life really worth taking this man's life?"

"You can't stop this; you won't stop this." Aquaman wrenched the trident out of the ground. He didn't raise it up for another strike, not yet anyways. It seemed that move had taken some effort out of him.

"You're right, I can't," the dark-clad man acknowledged. "But you can, right here, right now. You can end this cycle of revenge."

"You're right, I can." He then began to raise the trident.

Goddamn it! "If you go through with this, then you're no better than Black Manta," he tried. "In fact, you're exactly like him."

That caused the king to stop, along with just about every Atlantean head whipping to glare at him.

"How dare you?!" the one called Orm bellowed. "How dare you compare our king to this trash?!"

"You can't see it either, can you?" Batman pressed. "Just look at them. Both of them are being driven by revenge, nothing more. One because their child was murdered; the other because their father was murdered."

"You know nothing," Aquaman shot back.

"I know you were on Black Manta's ship when his father was killed," Batman countered. "And he's adamant that you were responsible. His every action since was to hurt you in the worst way possible. First it was your son; now it's your city and people. He drove a goddamn submarine with a corrupted nuclear reactor into it, ready to destroy it for centuries. And here you are, hunting him through every ocean around, trying to kill him as well. You're even starving the people on the surface to get your way. Your reasons are the same, your tactics are the same. The two of you are exactly the same."

Aquaman looked as if he were going to protest further, but his balance wobbled. He had to regain his balance, which left the Dark Knight another chance to press his point. "And here's the thing about revenge—it doesn't stop. Black Manta came after you because of his father; you went after Black Manta for your son. In case you've forgotten, Black Manta has a son too, and there's no telling what he's told the boy. I can assure you though, all that child will know is that you killed his father and he'll want revenge too. He'll come after you and do more deranged things until he kills you, or you kill him. The only way to stop it is if you break the cycle. Turn Black Manta in and let justice be done. He's an international criminal with no shortage of people that want to see him locked away for the rest of his life.

"You want payback? You want to see him really suffer? What better way for him to suffer than having him become old and infirmed, unable to carry out his revenge and wanting it no matter what? He'd be trapped in a useless body, unable to get what he truly wants."

There was silence now. The surrounding Atlanteans were looking to each other, but eventually their attention fell onto their king. The choice was ultimately his, and Batman hoped he had managed to reach the man.

Aquman closed his eyes, but when he opened them, there was still defiance in them. "You may have spared the life of the one that hurt your child, but I do not…have that weakness. I am a son…of Atlantis. I serve it…her…her people, and…"

He was losing concentration. The blood loss was becoming too much to ignore. Aquaman tried to maintain his balance, but eventually his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he keeled over. He collapsed to the ground, landing next to Black Manta, gasps from the surrounding Atlanteans ringing out.

"Arthur!" the queen cried as she rushed towards him. Orm was next, the two practically dropping next to the blond man.

Well, that had bought a minute or two. All it would take now is some other Atlantean to try and stand up for their king in his place and do the deed. By then, Batman needed to do something to hold them all back.

As it turned out, he didn't have to do much.

From the air, a number of people landed, surrounding Black Manta, Aquaman, Mera, and Orm. For once, the Dark Knight was happy to see the members of the Justice League, each one gazing down the rest of the Atlantean guard.

"That's enough!" Superman's voice boomed, a surprising amount of command in his tone. "This fight is over. We're taking Black Manta into custody."

"No you will not!" Orm roared as he shot up onto his feet, wheeling towards the Kryptonian. "He is a prisoner of Atlantis! He will stay here for his sentencing!"

"Then you'll have to face the Justice League," the dark-haired man coolly told him. "And right now, I'm sick and tired of the political saber rattling."

Well, tempers were about to flare. Though if that Atlanteans knew any better, they wouldn't try attacking Superman. When the Kryptonian put his mind to something, he could accomplish anything. Right now, that determination would be against the underwater city's interests.

Movement caused Batman to glance away from the stalemate, seeing Diana positioning herself close by. No doubt she was going to try and free him if things decided to go down. "Should I be surprised that you found this ancient lost city before anyone else?" she asked him, a pleasantness in her tone.

He couldn't help the smirk that threatened to grow on his face, only allowing one corner of his mouth to twitch up. "I get the feeling that you aren't."

"I am and am not at the same time," she told him. "Though you're going to have to tell me how you managed it, once cooler heads have prevailed."

"I rather doubt you're going to find a cooler head here."

It had ended as suddenly as it started. The resolution was almost anti-climatic.

General Sam Lane pondered this latest turn. Somehow, David Hyde was back in custody. The Justice League had something to do with that, of course.

However, it was quite apparent that Atlantis' naval power was very formidable, even more so than the powerful U.S. Navy. That had been eye opening, and not in a good way. Steps would need to be taken to rectify the situation.

But of course, the status quo hadn't completely returned.

"What do you mean they have our submarine?!" Vreeland bellowed. "That is property of the United States' Navy! It belongs to us! It is stolen property and we will get it back!"

That was what had changed. The naval engagement aside, the multimillion dollar submarine was in Atlantis' hands, and there was no telling what they were willing to do with it. It was a high priority that they got it back.

"Where is the sub being kept?" Lane asked. While he was annoyed with the situation, there was no point in being boisterous like Vreeland was. It ultimately would get them nowhere, so might as well keep a cool head about things.

The two generals were staring at a computer screen, the image of a colonel on the screen. He was leading what was left of the military forces in Gotham, making certain Atlantis didn't double back and start causing trouble there. This put the colonel in contact with Atlantean forces, so he was effectively their look-out.

"According to the Atlanteans, it's in a wall that keeps the city from getting crushed by the water," the colonel replied.

"Then pull it out," Vreeland demanded. "And if there is so much as a scratch on it, we will be owed reparations."

"That's a problem, Sir. The Atlanteans are wanting something in return for the sub."

That just blew the gasket off of Vreeland's head. "Like hell we're giving them anything! That's our sub! They can only give it back! That's that!"

Lane just slumped in his seat. Of course getting the sub back wouldn't be so easy. It seemed the Atlanteans were using it as a bargaining chip, much like they had done with Hyde. There was irony there. "What exactly are they asking for?" he asked.

"You can't be serious!" Vreeland jerked his head to look at him. "Why are you even entertaining this?"

"Frank, did you not see how that battle in Gotham Bay went?" Lane responded. "We didn't win; hell, it's tough to determine if we've actually done any damage to them. They have the upper hand if we were to have another battle. At the very least, we should hear their terms. It might be something we can live with, or maybe not."

"Nothing short of them giving the sub back is acceptable," Vreeland growled.

"And if they refuse?"

"Then we show them the full might of the U.S. military."

"So we were just messing around in Gotham Bay," Lane deadpanned. "I wish I had known that before we got into the fight. Such effort is unacceptable."

That caused Frank to shut up, but only for the moment. This guy put hotheads to shame with his temperament.

"Get us their demands and we'll consider what our next steps will be," Lane then ordered the colonel.

"Yes, Sir!"

The screen went blank. The general had to resist the annoyance he felt at their situation. It was a reversal of when they had Hyde and Atlantis wanted him. Now Atlantis had something they wanted and they no doubt remembered their hardball tactics.

This was definitely not the situation he thought he would end up in when this all started.

Gotham had too much attention. It had been best for them to slip away quietly.

The Operative preferred to be back up in the air. Being grounded for so long had been feeding into his innate paranoia, not that his long experiences in espionage proved such a trait otherwise. The rest of the Others had convened with him as they waited for word on what had occurred with Arthur and Black Manta's latest scheme.

Ya'Wara's return via the Globe of Transportation would answer their questions, and the tribal woman did not mince the details. Each of them mulled over the story told to them, reflecting on what it would mean.

The Justice League had intervened on Black Manta's invasion and stopped the destruction of the city. Arthur had failed to kill the man and bring their vendetta to an end. Now, the pirate was brought back up to the surface and would be held in a prison far from any sea or ocean. Information on how to find him would be classified, and other nations were still snarling for their turn at him.

Not an outcome any of them had wanted.

"What do we do?" Prisoner-of-War asked aloud, lost and staring into the space in front of the bag he wore.

"For the time being, Black Manta is beyond our reach," Operative summed up. The mask he wore was removed, revealing an elderly face with hair that was silvered from age. Pausing, he glanced at the pendant that Ya'Wara wore. "Not completely beyond," he amended, "but teleporting in without any knowledge of where he is held would prove more problematic for us. As powerful as the Globe is, I would not like to chance winding up partially in a wall. It may not have happened yet, but I would rather not find out the hard way."

"We must not give up so easily," Ya'wara cut in, body tense where she stood. "That monster still lives where Arthur's son does not."

"I believe Operative is not saying that we have surrendered," Kahina spoke up to assuage the tribal woman's ire. "Only that we need a different approach. We will have another opportunity."

"Another prediction of yours?" Operative quipped as he rummaged through his personal liquor cabinet. While on the outside, this plane looked like any other, the inside was furbished much like a home and with more comfortable couches than the rows upon rows of seats that were standard for other planes of this size. Lush carpeting spanned the floor, an actual kitchen was further back and equipped with all the bells and whistles, and naturally, there was a collection of liquor kept in a cabinet to be accessed as needed.

"Experience," Kahina quipped back at him.

"Touche," Operative remarked.

"If we are not giving up, then what will be our next action?" Vostok X returned them to the conversation at hand.

"That's my area of expertise," Operative stated, his selection of alcohol made and a glass waiting to be filled. "I'll see what I can't dig up, and once I have found something, I'll be in touch."

"And the rest of us will return to our homes and await your summoning," Kahina concluded.

"Unless one of you finds him first," Operative replied as he finished filling his glass. Picking it up, he took a long sip of it, pausing to savor it.

The rest of them share looks with one another. Only Kahina and Ya'Wara's eyes were visible, Prisoner-of-War and Vostok X's remaining concealed. This was the best plan they had right now, the only one they could do within reason lest they test Operative's paranoia.

This wasn't an easy decision to make. Yet, they had known each other for years, worked with one another whether as a whole team or when their paths had crossed. What went without question was their loyalty, not just to each other, but the other missing member of their group.

Arthur, and his son, were denied their justice. The monster that was Black Manta still lived. The vendetta would continue despite the Justice League's intervention or anything or anyone else who tried to get in the way. Black Manta would try again, he always did, and mere prison would not hold him forever.

He would escape and who knew what his next scheme would be? Worse, he knew where Atlantis was now. Black Manta would be able to return at his own convenience. This was far from over.

Lowering his half-filled glass, Operative said, "We're in this for the long run, aren't we?"

They were. So long as Black Manta lived, he would remain a threat to both their friend and his kingdom, and as long as that was the state of affairs, the Others would be working to ensure the bastard faced his due justice. It may take more time than any of them preferred, but to accept the alternative was unthinkable.

Arthur had come to them, asked for their help, and damn it, they were going to do just that. The hunt was still on and they would be ready for their next encounter with Black Manta. Only when justice was dealt would it be finished.

Arthur, his son, deserved no less.

Not everything was resolved. Atlantis was not happy with the League removing Black Manta from it, nor was the Navy that their top secret submarine was at the bottom of the ocean in a foreign power's hands. Not that the League had the best relationship with the United States in the first place, but this wasn't helping.

Those two would need to hash out their differences. For now, the League would withdraw and debrief.

"With those two dunderheads in charge of the negotiations, you better believe we'll have a war in a week," Hawkgirl concluded.

Not everyone was happy with the withdrawal.

"What's the word with Atlantis? Are they going to be irrational as well?" the Thanagarian continued.

"For now, their king has ordered all military forces to shore up their defenses," Wonder Woman said. "They will be busy cleaning up their…water space? The enemy force that Black Manta led is being cleaned up, their surviving crew back on the surface and waiting for charges."

"There was another guy working with Black Manta. Called himself Scavenger. Last I saw him, a great white had him in its jaws. I tried to find him, but nothing. Unless a body comes up, I think it would be best to assume he too is alive, but where is another matter entirely," Green Lantern added.

He had done his best to try and find Scavenger, but the underwater battle with King Orin's "reinforcements" had made it a difficult challenge. While the odds were good that Black Manta's partner had kicked the bucket, he had been doing this long enough not to assume anything unless a body was found.

What a great white shark would leave behind was debatable, though.

It made more sense how Black Manta had been able to orchestrate both the initial theft of that top secret submarine, Black Manta's escape from GCPD custody, and the second theft of that top secret submarine; he had had help. The men that had stolen the radar system that had brought Batman in on this had been working for this Scavenger, whoever he was.

Speaking of—

"Was anyone surprised to find Batman in Atlantis before us?" the dark-skinned Lantern asked.

Superman shrugged his shoulders. "Why start being surprised now?"

"He had the information from that footage he brought back with him from that…future that never was," the Amazon explained for the rest of them.

And naturally held onto it until it was needed. Classic Batman. Shouldn't have been too surprising, but it also begged the question of what else had the vigilante learned during that journey into a dystopian future? Just when the Lantern thought there wasn't anything else left to learn, he had to be proven wrong.

"If that information was in those video recordings, I'll need to investigate to make sure Luthor doesn't have that information," Superman said. Right, who could forget that the same recording of the future had wound up through convoluted means into the Metropolis billionaire's hands? Still, the second to last thing Atlantis needed right now was Lex Luthor prowling around it.

"One of these days, someone is going to need to sit down with him and find out every detail that was in those videos," Hawkgirl groused, her arms crossed. Her helmet was not on her head, placed aside so that everything hidden beneath it was visible.

Green Lantern had to admit he was not complaining about the choice.

But back to the matter at hand, there was the actual last thing that Atlantis needed, and that was Black Manta himself. "Anyone figure out how Black Manta found his way down there?" he asked.

"The radar system would have sped up his search, but not significantly," J'onn spoke up. "I would hazard that he followed after Corum Rath's retreat; the radar would have picked up on their ships, and if he kept them within range the whole time, they would have inadvertently led him to their city."

The very place that international pirate claimed he wanted to destroy, and boy had he gotten close. While the Atlanteans didn't allow them to board that submarine now that it was clearly within the city limits, Batman's account was that Black Manta had used a substitute uranium rod, one that nearly put the submarine's nuclear reactor into meltdown.

Their theory had been right, Black Manta's intention was to use the submarine as a bomb to wipe out the city. The plan was foiled for now.

"In order to ensure that there is no further interference from Atlantis, American authorities are holding Black Manta in a secure facility, more than likely far from any coast. One of the most secure would be Leavenworth. Iron Heights is another possibility," J'onn continued. "Those self-same authorities were most reluctant to divulge anything further than that."

Made sense. Places like Stryker's in Metropolis or Blackgate in Gotham were too close to the coast. Plus, there were all the weapons that Atlantis had in its armory. Orin had indicated to him there were some in there capable of mass destruction. There was no need to have such a threat at their doorstep.

"He can rot in whatever hole they stick him in," Green Lantern stated. "Unless he escapes again, then we got to make sure we find him first."

"Atlantis still has its spies. You better believe they'll be looking for him," Hawkgirl agreed.

The Feds had to have also figured that out for themselves. It explained the reluctance that J'onn told them about. There was no way they would be able to figure out where Atlantis had its eyes and ears, so they would have to play it like they were everywhere.

The secrecy of his current location was the only reason that Black Manta would be alive right now.

"Then if this is where our involvement ends, I have an investigation to return to," Wonder Woman said as she stood tall.

Hawkgirl favored the Amazon with a look. "You're working an investigation? I didn't think that was your style,"

A brief look of discomfort flicked on the Amazon's face. "It is a favor for a friend. I have some leads to follow…but in light of the revelations of Atlantis, I may have to seek answers…back home."

"Home?" Hawkgirl repeated. The Thanagarian quickly picked up the meaning, her eyes widening. "The island?"

A nod.

"But aren't you exiled?" Hawkgirl bolted up to her feet, looking at Wonder Woman with alarm.

"So long as I do not set foot on the soil, I hope to have a chance to plead my case," Wonder Woman answered. "The answers I seek may very well come from those who were there. Or may have been there. All the same, I hope that I'll be pointed in the right direction."

Green Lantern was frowning as he followed the exchange. Like a lightbulb, it finally clicked for him. Themyscira. Wonder Woman hardly talked about it unless it was topics like combat and culture; rarely did she mention about her life on it. Hawkgirl pointed out that there was banishment involved, while hinted that any return might involve hostility.

What was so important that Diana was going to risk herself going back to a place she was forbidden from setting foot on, and who was this for? They had to be important.

"I can go with you, if you would like," Shayera offered, her hand slipping to the handle of her mace.

Another shake of the head. "I need to do this, but thank you." A small smile formed on Diana's face, the only sign of gratitude she would give.

"There is a matter that will demand my attention," J'onn said, directing attention towards himself. "I may be out of communication for, what I hope, will be a short period of time."

Superman nodded. "We all might need time away. I'll be heading back to Metropolis, look into Luthor just in case."

And he might need to have one more talk with Admiral Strom about the sub and to offer his condolences, but he wasn't about to say that out loud. It seemed like it was a mutual understanding that they were all going to be going their own ways until the next crisis, which was the norm.

However…

"Any clues as to when Flash is going to show up?" A change of topic to a missing presence among them. To think Flash had missed all this. He was going to be pouting about it for weeks.

"No idea," Superman answered, a smile tugging at his lips, "but you know we'll hear all about it."

In a small, little cell, in a place more than likely kept highly restricted, far away from the ocean and the light of freedom, Black Manta rotted.

Denied his vengeance, caged, and perhaps hoped to be forgotten about, he sat on the pathetic mattress that was his bed, his body clad in prison-issued garbs, he sat there still and seething.

He had been so close. So very close. When his plan to cause a meltdown of a reactor had failed, he had been blessed with a second chance to at least kill that bastard that had murdered his father.

It hadn't been enough. He hadn't been enough. Aquaman still lived and he was needing to start all over again.

The walls here were thick. The door was solid steel, complete with hinges and not a bar in sight. The floor was more than likely reinforced so blowing it would not be an option a second time. For all intents and purposes, he was trapped here, trapped to rot.

Or maybe not.

There was a slot in the door where his meals would be slid in. The last time that door had been open was when he was first placed in here. Now, it was opening again, and Manta flickered his gaze up to see what this would be about.

There was a man in army uniform, the formal uniform that was steam pressed, patches and metals galore to indicate both rank and acts of valor. Army, judging by the color of the uniform. Or maybe it was Special Forces. The stance was slightly wrong for an infantry man. Pinned between an arm and the body was the hat, peaked and with a brim. The man's head had hair that was cut short as was typical for the armed forces. The face was stone hard, but not intimidating to a man like Manta.

This man was here for something, and it was obvious that it was a who.

"David Hyde, alias Black Manta," the man stated. Manta was not impressed by the address. "My name is Colonel Rick Flag. I'm here today to extend to you an offer and an opportunity."

He didn't blink. Didn't raise an eyebrow. Did not react in any way. He could guess what this "offer" was.

When he did not speak or respond in any way, Colonel Flag continued with his pitch. "I represent a program for hardened convicts, a way for them to pay back their debt to society. We know a number of your exploits, many of which have never been reported to any media. You've managed to enact feats of theft, a number of murders, and nearly set off an international incident between the United States and the now no longer lost city of Atlantis. You're a perfect candidate for Task Force X."

With elbows on his thighs, and his hands clasped together under his chin, Manta regarded the army man, Flag, and continued to keep his own counsel. His ego was being stroked, an appeal to his vanity, all for the purpose of getting him interested if not willing to take a risk to achieve…what exactly?

"What is in it for me," he spoke, stating his question rather than asking it.

"Time will be shaved off your sentence, reducing the amount of time you spend in this cage." Flag paused to regard the cell. "Complete enough missions, and you'll be back out there doing whatever it is you want to do to those Atlanteans. Interested?"

Manta had heard the rumors. A secret squad of imprisoned criminals forced to go on suicide missions, sometimes coming into conflict with their own colleagues, but more often than not, tended to serve the interests of a certain freedom-loving nation. Word spread faster along the grapevine than it did on the tides.

Shaving off the sentences. Funny. He hadn't been sentenced to anything yet. The scavengers were already hoping to pick at his bones. Typical. He already knew what his answer was.

"No."

Some might turn their back on Flag, others might be more loud about it, but Manta remained calm and in control, keeping his eyes on the army man and waited for the response. Wherever he was, that this colonel had managed to get this far meant he had connections. Powerful ones. A one word answer would not satisfy him.

Flag proved him correct when he replied, "This is a formality. One way or another, you can either be conscripted or you volunteer. Volunteering comes with perks."

"You don't do one mission. You do another, and another. Perks? I have no interest in perks," Manta retorted. "There is nothing you have that I want."

"Even your life?" Flag pressed.

The dark-skinned man gave a vocal snort. "Do I look like a man who values life?"

"Everyone values life, especially their own," Flag stated.

"I would have gladly given it up to destroy that man and his city. My life is a small price to pay for vengeance. You think you can threaten me with it? Go ahead. Kill me now. You spare their pathetic lives and nothing more." It was the most he would say to this man. His disinterest in this task force would be obvious even to the dead.

"What is it you want, then?" Flag wasn't about to be denied. Whoever he was, or whoever he worked for, they wanted what Black Manta could do. That much was plain and clear.

Though he did not show it, Flag was growing more desperate. This…negotiation, if you could call it that, was not in his skillset. He was trying to be intimidating when he wasn't. Flag was a soldier, a man who followed orders, and that meant he did not think for himself. Such blind loyalty was nothing to be feared by Manta.

The army man did ask a question. What did he want? Well, he knew what he wanted, and as he had stated before, it was something that neither Flag nor his masters would be able to give him. Like that interrogator in Gotham, Flag would need to understand what he was dealing with, and Manta cared not who understood his motives.

It wouldn't change anything. Nothing at all. Once he regained his freedom, and he would, he would continue his campaign against Aquaman and everything he loved and cared for. That bastard's suffering was all that motivated him, and would continue to do so until the end of the world itself if need be.

What did he want?

Black Manta leaned forward, glaring his eyes straight into Flag's. There could be no mistake or miscommunication when next he spoke. It would be clear and simple and straight to the point.

"The only thing I want is Aquaman's head."

It was the only thing he desired. The only thing that would give him happiness.

The only thing that would make the world right once again.

Returning to Gotham had been relatively simple. The Justice League had delivered both Batman and Batgirl to the city, and from there they had made their own way back to the Cave. The boats they had used to reach Atlantis were in pieces at the bottom of the ocean, so there was little point in trying to recover them.

Of course, they had someone waiting for them.

A black car pulled to a stop on the dais the Batmobile parked on. The car pulled next to the sleek, dark vehicle, the engine running until Batman turned it off. This was a car he had in the city, perhaps not meant for a situation like this. It was more for one of his undercover disguises, if he needed a getaway car in case things were going badly. This one had tinted windows, so no one really got a look at the Dark Knight and his daughter driving down Gotham streets until they left the city limits.

Waiting off of the dais was Damian, his arms crossed over his chest, and a scowl chiseled onto his face. It was pretty clear he wasn't happy.

The moment the car doors opened, the boy launched into his tirade.

"What is the meaning of leaving me behind?!" he roared at Cassandra, who was pulling off her mask. The dark-haired girl just ignored him, walking past him for the locker room. "I am talking to you! Answer me!"

"I am tired," she called back, not even bothering to break stride. "We can do this later."

"There will not be a later!" he shouted after her before spinning around, his outrage clearly on his face. "Do you know what she did, Father?!"

"She took my backup boat," he replied evenly, just standing next to the vehicle. It was pretty clear that Cassandra was in no mood to humor the boy in his tantrum. The older male would take on the younger one's attention for her.

"More like stole it while I was…" Damian trailed off.

This caused the vigilante to raise an eyebrow. "While you were?" he prodded.

"Not disobeying you," the boy quickly replied. "Which she clearly did."

That was a fair point. Batman had told his charges not to come after him should there be any issues. Clearly they had ignored him. "And I'll handle that with Cassandra. The two of us are tired at the moment, so once we're refreshed—"

"What are you going to do to her?" Damian interjected.

"I haven't decided yet. It's been a long couple of days." Batman made to walk around the boy. He needed to see to his report before he washed up. No better time to type it up while it was still fresh in his head.

And there was quite a bit that needed to be recorded.

Like Black Manta's plan to blow up a nuclear reactor. Like the very city of Atlantis, its people and their meta abilities. Aquaman's psychological profile along with strengths and weaknesses.

The story of how Black Manta killed Aquaman's son.

That caused him to pause. Hearing that story had pulled at familiar strings in him, ones he wished not to have. He knew what it was like to lose a child, even if he was able to undo it. That pain didn't go away, hadn't gone away for years.

Being unable to even embrace a son…

Batman turned and walked right up to Damian, who tilted his head back. Once he reached him, the dark-clad man stared down at the boy. "What is—" his son began to say.

Batman reached out with one arm and wrapped it around the boy, pulling him in for a hug. This instantly cut off Damian as he just stood there, clearly uncertain as to what was going on. Slowly, he began to return the hug, though with both of his arms to Batman's one.

They stayed that way for several moments before Batman ended it, pulling away by taking a step back. "What was that for?" Damian asked, confused by the entire situation.

"I haven't been the most present of parents," Batman said, "but I want you to know, so you have no doubt, that I care about you, Damian. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

"I…care about you…too," the boy stammered. "Thank you…Father…"

Perhaps it shouldn't have been so shocking that Damian didn't know how to handle the exchange. That was on the older man, something he needed to correct. He wasn't the most affectionate of people, but he had two children that needed to be shown that someone in this world cared and even loved them. That started with him.

Because there would be one day when they wouldn't have such moments. Aquaman lived that every day of his life. He didn't want the same regret, nor did he want his children to feel the same way either.

There was more than one Atlantean disappointed in the outcome of Orin's gambit for justice. Short of their grieving king and queen, Orm felt he was justifiable furious with this. His soft, caring brother had placed his faith in the wrong people. The Justice League? What justice had they meted out for his murdered nephew?

Another example of why the surface should never be trusted. They only had their own self-interests in mind, and that League? They were surface dwellers themselves. Of course they would take the side of the surface.

Despite it all, it was playing in his favor.

Orin would be less willing to engage with the surface, his attention focused where it needed to be: on Atlantis and its people. Mother's dream was further away now than it had ever been. A consolation for all their efforts.

Atlantis' Ocean Master still had duties to attend to. One of those duties was…unofficial. Within a chamber dedicated to military forces and defense, he had convened a small group of supporters, ones that he had convinced Orin to place in various positions of the government. They were ardent isolationists, their loyalty with Atlantis and Atlantis only.

He noted Corum Rath among them, as was to be expected. His rise in rank upon Orin designating him as emissary during this whole conflict had granted him political favor. Some of the individuals here had once begged him to assume the throne, and now their pleading was at an end as they now realized the extent of his vision.

To retain a degree of control as he had, along with furthering their goals, if there had been any dissent, it had died long ago. Some might not like the games he had to play, but the results spoke for themselves.

"Why should we consider this anything other than a failure?" an elder spoke.

Even if there was occasional dissent.

"You spend too much time in your tower, Elder," Orm replied. "Listen to the people, what are the words on their lips? They speak many things, but reconciliation, reunion, and diplomacy are not any of those words. My brother's scheme, as understandable as it is, showed the true colors of the surface dwellers; none are to be trusted. Atlantis is more united than it has ever been."

Pausing, he regarded Corum Rath who stood a little straighter under his scrutiny.

"There is also the knowledge gained from the skirmish that Corum Rath engaged in. We have a better measure of the surface dwellers' capabilities, how our weapons fare against them and how theirs fare against ours. Done so in a way that even the most pacifistic of our people would not be able to condemn. Our cause is all the stronger for it."

He could see pride in Corum Rath's eyes, confirmation he had a devout follower, and one that would not question him in the future. Good. He would need such men when it came to the inevitable conflict that would occur between their city and the world above. Surface dwellers were barbaric, always seeking a new fight, unable to resist war's call, and that savagery would reach them in time. It always would.

They needed to be ready.

"The king considered using the weapons stored in the forbidden section of the armory, did he not?" another Elder spoke, one who was less combative than the first.

Orm nodded. "Indeed. He entered that forbidden section sooner than I had anticipated. My brother may be more easily swayed to our reason, so long as I am still able to guide him. In time, he will forsake any attachments he has to the surface and embrace his Atlantean heritage with open arms. It will be the greatest of days when this happens."

He looked forward to that day, knowing that it would become reality instead of remaining fantasy.

"It did not escape my notice that you used this opportunity to slip into that forbidden section after your brother," the second elder spoke. Taking a moment, Orm looked this elder over, taking in his features, then recalling his name. Kalandro, one of the priests who kept the lore of the city. Of course he would know.

"I was able to retrieve one of the weapons," Orm said candidly, removing an object that he had kept hidden with the use of his cloak. Placing it on the large, round table that took up the center of this chamber, he allowed the rest of his cabal to gaze at it.

It resembled a tome, but it was constructed with a metal unlike anything he had ever seen. The contents were of a greater size than its exterior, and consisted of a material he could not yet identify. There were symbols etched into its outer surface, but they made no sense to him. One symbol was prominent, one that resembled the final letter of an alphabet on the surface. Reconnaissance from the surface had given this symbol the name omega.

What it meant along with the rest of the symbols remained a mystery. Yet, it was in the forbidden section of the armory, indicating it possessed great power. Whatever it could do, though, was still unknown.

"What is that?" Kalandro asked, and his lack of knowledge was palpable.

"It is what we will be learning. When we understand its secrets, its power will be ours to use at our discretion," Orm answered. "It was all I was able to take before Orin took his leave. The guard is one of ours, but he must continue his duty without us abusing it. There is no sense in risking his status unless absolutely necessary. He serves Atlantis much as we do, as my brother does. Their time will be coming to an end, and we will deal out justice to Black Manta for what he has done to us. To our Prince.

"To this end, we will seek our knowledge, fortify our positions here, shore up the city defenses, and prepare for war inevitable. Once the power of this relic is unlocked, we will be ready to reclaim and restore our empire. The glory that is Atlantis will rule this planet again, as it had in ages long forgotten, but we will resurrect."

Several of the men here gave salutes, identifying them as military. Others bowed, indicating their approval and support. They were united in their cause, agreeing to his plan. Very good.

All that remained was ensuring Orin's claim to the throne, forging him into the king that Atlantis needed to enter this new age. It would be his honor and privilege to guide his brother through this forging; he would entrust the responsibility to no one else.

Isolation may serve its purpose, but it would not protect them forever. Seizing the reins of the world and guiding it under their values and culture, that would ensure Atlantis' legacy. Legend was only for the dead, and they were very much alive.

This was only the beginning of a new chapter.

Author's Note: And with that, The Tides of Wrath have come to an end. So, what is next on the docket? It is my pleasure to inform you all that we have two stories ready for posting. The first will be a Flash story, Catalystic Epoch. Another expansion in this SMAV universe, this will be posted next Monday. As for the second story, that one will be the follow up to this story. It is a Justice League story, Sins of Regret, and that one will start posting after ShadowMajin finished up with Toll of Sorcery. Both stories will be published on my, Anonymous Void's, account. You can check out my profile for more information about both of these stories. We look forward to seeing your speculations on what these two new installments will be about. Thank you all for reading.