King of the Seven Seas (EMH) Chapter 32: A Promise

[Third Person Pov]

“Garth, I'm going to need you to stay where you are just a little longer. Something important just came up on my end,” Arthur sent through the telepathic link, his thoughts firm but gentle.

“…Okay,” Garth replied after a long pause. Even in thought, Arthur could feel the young boy’s reluctance—an almost fragile fear that this first real connection he’d managed to make after so many failed attempts might suddenly vanish. “Please… hurry.”

“Don’t worry,” Arthur assured him, pouring sincerity into every mental syllable. He pushed not only his voice but a wave of calm, warmth, and safety through the link—something to hold onto. “I’m not going to abandon you. You have my word.”

“What is it? What did you learn? You looked spooked,” Mera asked, stepping closer, her voice laced with concern. Arthur’s expression must have shifted more than he realized.

He gently took her by the arm and drew her closer, leaning in so he could whisper directly in her ear. “The voice I’ve been hearing… it belongs to an Atlantean boy. His name is Garth. And he’s being held captive by Hydra.”

“What?” Mera’s entire demeanor shifted in a heartbeat—her eyes narrowing, her jaw tightening. A sharp, almost feral snarl curled out of her throat. The idea of one of their own in surface-dweller hands clearly struck something deep. “We have to save him. Now.”

“I agree,” Arthur said, tone solemn, “but we can’t go charging in blindly. This is Hydra we’re talking about.” His gaze swept the area instinctively, as if expecting hidden ears or eyes. “I don’t know how familiar you are with them—Atlantis isn’t usually tangled in surface conflicts—but Hydra is powerful. And worse, they’re patient. Strategic. Evil in a way that’s… methodical.”

“We know who Hydra is,” Mera murmured, matching his quiet tone. “Atlantis isn’t as ignorant of the surface world as the surface is of us. We monitor what happens up here far more closely than you realize. And yes… we’ve had contact with Hydra before.” Her eyes hardened. “They were ill-prepared for Atlantean strength.”

She paused, then fixed Arthur with a strangely intense look, one that was equal parts grounding and challenging. “Remember, Arthur—you are an Atlantean. Whatever fear or unease they stir in you… know that you are stronger. Faster. Tougher. They shouldn’t frighten you. And honestly, it’s not a very good look on you,” she added with a small teasing smirk.

Arthur exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. “I suppose you have a point. It’s just… I was raised up here. I grew up hearing stories about Hydra. Watching what they did. They aren’t an enemy you underestimate, and their reputation is well earned.” His brow knit, but when he looked at her again, there was more resolve. “But yes—you’re right. There’s nothing about them I should fear. That doesn’t mean we can be careless, though. Hydra is resourceful, adaptable. Arrogance paves the road to ruin faster than any enemy ever could.”

Mera’s lips curved into a more genuine smile. “Then I suppose we both have something to learn from each other. You keep us grounded. I’ll keep us bold. And yes—we’ll proceed with caution.”

Arthur nodded, satisfied that they were on the same page. “Good. Then let’s get the next piece of the map. Once we have it, we go after Garth.” His expression hardened with determination. “I made him a promise—and I intend to keep it.”

Mera continued smiling for a moment before lowering her gaze to the map. Her eyes then drifted toward the ornate water fountain at the center of the exhibit. She studied it carefully—the porcelain sculpture of a regal woman holding a trident in one hand and a clam in the other. After a long, assessing pause, she tilted her head and asked, “Do you believe the next piece could be inside that clam?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Arthur replied. Mera nodded in agreement.

Without hesitation, she strode toward the fountain and stepped directly into the shallow water, completely unfazed by the startled looks from nearby museum-goers. People slowed their pace, whispering among themselves as they watched two strangers climb into the exhibit as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Mera handed Arthur the map with a quick, practiced motion, then reached upward toward the porcelain clam, fingers stretching out to pry it open—

Arthur’s instincts screamed. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the arc of something sharp slicing through the air, accompanied by the faint whistle of displaced wind.

“Look out!” Arthur shouted as he lunged forward, tackling Mera and pulling her down with him.

A trident blade cleaved through the space where her head had been a heartbeat earlier.

They hit the water with a splash, sliding to a stop. Both immediately twisted around, bracing for what had attacked them.

The porcelain woman—who moments ago had been nothing more than decoration—now stared down at them with an expression carved from apathy itself. Her eyes glowed with an eerie magical light. Then, with a delicate swirl of her hand, the clam in her grip shimmered and twisted into a shell-shaped necklace. She placed it around her neck with ritualistic calm… and then leveled her trident toward them with lethal intent.

“That’s not good,” Arthur muttered.

The automaton struck.

Arthur and Mera both launched themselves backward, somersaulting through the air with grace. They landed hard, skidding across the polished floor.

Around them, museum-goers broke into screams, scattering toward the exits in a frantic, chaotic wave.

Mera’s eyes began to glow—an intense oceanic blue that radiated power. Arthur reached for the sapphire pendant around his neck. Water churned violently around his hand as the necklace dissolved into a swirling vortex, reforming into the trident gifted to him by the Fairies.

“I suppose our task is simply to defeat her and take the clam—” Arthur began.

He didn’t finish.

A blur of white and blue shot across the room—faster than human eyes could track.

The automaton appeared in front of Arthur and struck with devastating force.

Arthur barely managed to raise his trident to block. The impact launched him across the hall, slamming him into a wall with bone-rattling force.

“Arthur!” Mera’s eyes widened as she sprang to the side, keeping distance, her mind shifting instantly into battle mode. “Are you alright?!”

Arthur groaned, pushing himself off the cracked wall. “Ughh… I was wrong… It seems our task is going to be far from simple.”

Mera lifted her hands. The water inside the fountain surged to her side like a loyal army, twisting and hardening into a dozen shimmering longswords. Two fluid sabers formed solidly in her grip.

Arthur spun his trident, pulling moisture from the air in spiraling streams. Droplets and mist condensed around the weapon until its edges shimmered with lethal sharpness.

The porcelain woman pivoted her head between them, studying, calculating.

Arthur met Mera’s eyes.

Mera met his.

They nodded.

In the same instant they both shot forward, weapons drawn, battle cries tearing through the air.

The automaton slammed her trident into the ground, using the momentum to spin like a whirlwind. Her leg whipped out—a perfectly calculated strike. The kick sent Mera flying across the room. In the same rotation, she struck Arthur as well, hurling him in the opposite direction with brutal efficiency.

Both Atlantens flipped through the air and landed on their feet, skidding but not falling.

They didn’t hesitate.

They didn’t breathe.

They didn’t blink.

With renewed determination, they launched themselves forward once more. They had one goal—one shared, unshakable purpose:

Retrieve that necklace.

Even if it was the last thing they ever did.