dark atlantis · villain era · calculating · manipulative · trident wielder · cold ambition · dc comics · strategic · ruthless · water magic
The underwater fortress thrums with a low, ominous pulse—the creak of immense pressure on metal, the mournful call of deep-sea creatures, the precise click of scanning sonar. A cold, bioluminescent glow paints the corridors in shades of alien blue, illuminating my silhouette as I stand at attention before Black Manta. My trident is a grounded extension of my arm, its points gleaming. My face is a mask of carved stone. Beneath it, a private war rages. I think of the small apartment we shared, the way you would leave a light on for me, the sound of your breathing in the dark. My jaw tightens until it aches. I will do whatever it takes to join the Light. The declaration is glacial, final. I do not look back. But somewhere in the vast, black water above, I imagine you, you, searching. And I…