With a flash of golden light, Doom and Spider-Man vanished into the submarine's portal.
Meanwhile, the Atlanteans were seething with rage. Since when had the proud overlords of the sea suffered such catastrophic losses—at the hands of land-dwellers no less? And yet, amidst their fury lurked a growing fear. That haunting azure light from earlier—it didn't just destroy ships. It felt like death itself had descended from the depths.
Without hesitation, countless water cannons and energy rays erupted from the Atlantean warships, bombarding the land-dwellers' submarine still lingering not far off.
Blinding light exploded across the ocean floor.
When the radiance finally faded, the submarine—now clearly visible—was a wreck. Its once-smooth exterior was riddled with craters and fractures. Air bubbles escaped steadily from the cracks, rising in endless streams.
"Land humans can't withstand such pressure. A few of you—go in for a closer look," the fleet commander ordered coldly, eyes locked on the battered sub.
The warriors called out wore grim expressions as they cautiously swam toward the vessel. The memory of the azure blast was still fresh—seared into their minds.
Yet when they arrived and found no signs of resistance or attack, their courage began to return.
"Commander, the enemy submarine has lost all power. The hull's critically damaged. No one inside could've survived," one of them reported confidently.
Convinced the danger had passed, the four massive warships began moving forward. Swarms of Atlantean soldiers surged around the crippled submarine.
Inside that dark, ruined sub, the holographic screen still glowed faintly. On it, numbers ticked downward—relentlessly counting.
"Should we haul this thing back, Commander?" one of the warriors asked.
The blue missile had made quite an impression on them. If they could retrieve this tech and study it, it might change the tide of future wars.
"Pull it back. King Namor will reward us," the warship commander said calmly.
Inside the submarine, the countdown ended.
An icy, mechanical voice echoed from the speaker:
"Initiating self-destruct protocol."
A familiar, chilling blue glow lit up from deep within the vessel.
"Commander, look—what is that…?" one Atlantean warrior leaned toward a porthole—and froze.
Inside, the same cold blue light—like some demonic eye—was glowing brighter.
It bathed their faces in an eerie hue.
Several nearby soldiers exchanged glances. Without another word, they turned and fled at full speed. That blue glow... it triggered a primal warning deep in their bones.
"Wait—what's going on?!" the commander shouted.
He never got his answer.
A massive underwater bubble engulfed them, and in the next moment, the submarine erupted with a devastating surge of blue energy. The explosion disintegrated everything—bodies, metal, thought. Nothing escaped. The energy surged outward, expanding, before finally collapsing into itself—shrinking into a singularity and vanishing.
Above the surface, Doom and Spider-Man emerged from a portal.
Spider-Man took off his mask, still shaken. "Doom… doesn't this feel like we're just running away?"
"Who said we didn't leave an impression?" Doom replied with a shrug. "I left them a parting gift. But I wouldn't expect you to understand it at your level."
Spider-Man looked like he'd swallowed a spider. He was a genius—top of his class—but in the Sharp Blade squad, Doom's intellect made him feel like a toddler with a calculator.
He opened his mouth to argue, but Doom cut him off. "Let's head back and report the mission."
With a swirl of golden light, a portal to S.W.O.R.D. headquarters opened before them.
The two stepped in, disappearing as the gateway closed behind them.
Unnoticed nearby, a young boy had witnessed the entire scene—wide-eyed and stunned. His ice cream had melted into a puddle in his hand.
That was terrifying.
Two costumed figures had just materialized out of nowhere… and then vanished again. It shattered his understanding of reality.
Still holding the melting cone, he broke into tears, dropped it, and sprinted to find his parents.
Back under the ocean, Namor stood motionless, brows furrowed. He had just felt a massive energy fluctuation rip through the water. His mind flashed to the four warships he'd sent out earlier—and a pang of unease struck him.
He gripped his golden trident and launched himself forward like a missile, a golden streak in the deep sea.
As he neared the site of the earlier battle, a heavy silence loomed. The further he went, the graver his expression became.
Then—
"K-King Namor!" a voice called out in panic.
An Atlantean warrior sped toward him, face twisted in horror. He was one of the lucky few who'd been far enough from the blast to escape with his life.
"King Namor!" the man gasped, desperate and shaking. "They're gone… All of them… gone!"
Namor stared at him.
"They were all wiped out in the explosion," the soldier muttered, barely able to stand. His face twitched with terror.
The silence that followed was deafening.
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T/N:
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