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King of the Seven Seas (EMH) Chapter 33: Team Work
🕑 Added 2025-12-11 01:24:42 +0000 UTC[Third Person Pov]
With a single sweeping command of her dual sabers, Mera unleashed an arsenal of flying blades—dozens of shimmering constructs that spiraled through the air like liquid steel. They screamed toward their target, but the automaton woman reacted with perfect mechanical precision. She spun her trident so rapidly that the weapon became a blur of silver, and when the phantom blades collided, they shattered into harmless motes of water that dispersed across the grand hall.
Arthur stepped forward and slammed the prongs of his trident against the marble floor. Cracks spider-webbed outward before a surge of icy power erupted from beneath his feet, thick jagged spikes of frozen ocean shooting forward in a relentless tide.
The automaton darted back, then slashed a single elegant arc through the air. Her blade met the advancing ice, cleaving the wave into glittering fragments. Those fragments didn’t fall—instead she flicked her wrist, repurposing them into a hail of crystalline shrapnel that whistled toward Mera.
Mera’s eyes gleamed with a bright, oceanic blue. She raised her swords, and with a single fluid motion, the air around her rippled. The ice fragments melted instantly, dissolving into swirling water that she swept into her control. The liquid curled around her like serpents before hardening into rotating piercers of compressed water. With a sharp gesture, she sent them forward. They sliced through the air with enough force to gouge trenches in the marble, driving the automaton backward and straight into Arthur’s path.
Arthur seized the moment. He thrust his trident outward, and from the rising column of water behind him erupted a swarm of spectral sharks. Their forms were composed of swirling tides and biting currents, each one surging toward the automaton with hungry momentum.
Her response was almost artistic. The automaton pivoted, every movement crisp and calculated. With a single sweeping strike, she dissected the nearest shark, and the creature burst into a spiraling wave. She ducked under another, spun between two more, weaving gracefully through their attacks like a dancer obeying an unseen rhythm.
But Arthur and Mera were already closing in—side by side, Atlantean warriors whose fighting styles intertwined seamlessly. Their synchronized assault crashed down on the automaton like a storm given form.
Arthur drove his trident downward toward her skull. She intercepted it with her own weapon, sparks flaring where the two tridents met. Mera surged in from the side, her dual sabers slashing across the automaton’s torso with enough force to blast her backward.
Mera’s swords hovered beside her in a graceful orbit as she seized Arthur’s trident and pivoted her body. She spun a full rotation and whipped him forward, letting him build momentum before letting the weapon free of her grip.
Arthur twisted in mid-air and threw his trident toward the automaton’s feet. The moment it struck the ground, a tidal wave erupted outward—an ocean’s worth of force condensed into a single devastating burst. The automaton braced, but even she couldn’t withstand the sheer power and was knocked violently off her footing.
Arthur crouched, Mera ran toward him, and without hesitation she stepped onto his shoulders. Arthur launched her upward with all his might.
As she ascended, all the water he had conjured surged toward her. It spiraled around her body, weaving itself into a brilliant exoskeleton that shaped itself into elegant Atlantean armor—sleek, sharp, and glowing with magic.
The automaton somersaulted away as Mera crashed down, her fist striking the floor with such force that the polished marble fractured outward like broken glass. Mera lifted her head, eyes locked on the automaton who had backed herself into a nearby wall.
She struck before the automaton could recover. Mera closed the distance in a heartbeat, her fists flying in a torrent of jabs and hooks, each blow thundering through the room. The automaton’s metal shell resisted the damage, but the relentless assault still drove her deeper and deeper into the wall, carving her silhouette into the stone like a chiseled imprint.
Mera saw her opening and reached for the shell pendant—but the automaton’s hand snapped up with lightning speed, smacking her attempt away. She twisted and slipped aside, her movements impossibly fluid for a machine.
Then she retaliated. A knee crashed into Mera’s gut, staggering her backward. The automaton followed through, slamming the shaft of her trident into Mera with enough force that a ripple of invisible shockwave burst outward. The water surrounding Mera shattered like glass, her armor breaking apart. The strike drove into her abdomen, and Mera coughed up a burst of crimson.
She shot upward like a launched arrow, blasting through the air—and she would have smashed straight through the ceiling if Arthur hadn’t leapt up to catch her wrist.
He spun, faster and faster, water coiling around them in a raging whirlpool. The vortex tightened, wrapping entirely around Mera until she glowed like a blue halo.
Arthur released her.
Mera rocketed downward, the air warping around her as she clenched her fist tight, eyes blazing. Blood streaked the corner of her mouth as she grinned, teeth bared in defiance.
The automaton raised her trident defensively, but when Mera’s fist struck, the magic in the water detonated.
The resulting explosion shook the entire museum. A roaring blast of water and energy tore through displays and exhibits, shattering sculptures and sending artwork crashing to the ground. The wall behind the automaton disintegrated completely, and the mechanical woman was hurled through the debris, blasted into the next exhibition room.
She skidded across the floor, crashing into a display of paintings and sculptures—several left hanging crooked, others knocked askew from the sheer force of the impact.
Her body bounced off a display pedestal before crashing onto the open floor of the next exhibition room. Stone and dust scattered across the polished tiles as she skidded to a halt, her limbs jerking from the sudden impact.
She ended up on her hands and knees, head bowed. For a moment, she remained still. Then her fingers twitched, curling around the fractured remains of her weapon. The once-elegant trident was now broken cleanly in two, its shaft splintered and its balance ruined. She stared at it, expression unreadable, as if analyzing the impossible: damage inflicted upon a form meant to be flawless.
When she finally lifted her head, she saw them.
Arthur and Mera stepped through the rolling cloud of rubble and dust like figures carved from the very storm. Their silhouettes sharpened with each stride—eyes narrowed, jaws set, fists clenched in unyielding resolve. They moved in perfect synchrony, shoulder to shoulder, their footfalls echoing like war drums.
The marble woman rose halfway, pushing herself to one knee.
That tiny movement was all the signal Arthur and Mera needed.
They surged forward.
Relentless didn’t begin to describe them. Their assault wasn’t wild or chaotic—it was practiced precision, two warriors honed by battles and driven by one singular purpose:
Bring her down.
By any means necessary.
Arthur struck first, his trident a blur of azure and steel. He lunged, thrusting with rapid, punishing jabs. The automaton woman responded in kind, intercepting his attacks with palm strikes, redirecting his weapon with bare hands that rang like chimes of stone on metal.
Arthur twisted the trident, its prongs glowing before they unleashed a sudden geyser of spiraling water that blasted the automaton off balance—straight toward Mera, who was already preparing her counter.
The moment the torrent entered Mera’s reach, she seized control. The water molded itself into a massive war hammer in her hands, the liquid solidifying with Atlantean magic. She swung with thunderous force, smashing the automaton back across the room—right toward Arthur again.
Arthur rotated into a spinning roundhouse kick, the heel of his boot cracking across her jaw and sending her reeling toward Mera—who met her with a flying superman punch, the impact ringing through the entire gallery hall.
The marble woman became the center of a brutal rhythm, tossed between Arthur and Mera like a stone caught in the tides.
Arthur lunged behind her, driving the butt of his trident into the back of her knee. The force buckled her stance, dropping her down exactly where he wanted her.
Mera followed through instantly, a high kick slamming across the automaton’s face with a sharp, snapping crack.
Arthur switched positions with a swift leap, and now standing before her, he went for a decisive stab. But the automaton moved with sudden, frightening strength—she grabbed him by the forearm and pivoted, attempting to hurl him over her shoulder directly toward Mera.
Mera reacted instantly.
She dropped backward, bracing her palms against the floor while her legs coiled like springs. Arthur landed perfectly in her crouched position, and with a powerful upward kick, she launched him into the air.
Water surged at his command. A torrent spiraled around him like a vortex, gathering into a massive sphere above his head. With both hands he brought it crashing down toward the automaton like the weight of an ocean.
The impact drove her to both knees, the marble floor cracking under the pressure.
Mera sprinted across the hall, sweeping her hands along the fractured floor. All the scattered water pulled toward her arm, coiling and compressing until it hardened into a thick gauntlet of razor-edged ice. She slid low in front of the kneeling automaton, her body twisting into a perfect stance as she drew her fist back.
Her uppercut struck with bone-shattering power.
The impact launched the automaton straight upward, loose debris followed along her path as she ascended toward Arthur.
Arthur was waiting.
A rotating halo of sharpened water circled behind him like a blade. With a commanding sweep of his arm, he cracked the watery whip across her midsection. The strike lashed her downward at tremendous speed.
She crashed into the floor with an explosive impact that shook the entire museum. Tiles shattered, displays collapsed, and shards of marble and plaster scattered like shrapnel. The artwork lining the walls—paintings, sculptures, priceless relics—tipped, cracked, and broke under the shockwave.
Arthur flipped through the air and landed beside Mera, both of them staring at the crater where the automaton lay.
Dust swirled.
Then—movement.
The marble woman pushed herself up, slow but steady, fragments of stone falling from her body as she rose again.
Arthur gaped. “Just what is she made of that she’s still okay!?”
Mera’s breathing was heavy, her knuckles dripping with water and blood. “I can see now why others probably couldn’t make it far…” Her voice wavered just slightly, not with fear—but with awe. “But surely she must be near her breaking point… right?”
“Then let’s make sure she arrives there,” Arthur said, his voice low and unyielding. His expression hardened like carved stone. He thrust the butt of his trident toward the ground, and the floor beneath them rippled.
Water burst forth in a sudden surge, weaving itself into a swirling ring that circled the three of them. The force of Arthur’s will snapped old pipes beneath the floorboards, sending jets of pressurized water shooting upward like ruptured geysers. All of it obeyed him—bending, coiling, spiraling.
Within moments, a vast, churning sphere of levitating water enveloped them. The current grew stronger, rotating faster until the entire chamber groaned under the pressure. The three combatants floated within, suspended in a violent sphere of water.
Mera didn’t need an explanation. She felt Arthur’s intent as clearly as if he had spoken aloud—their bond allowed them to move as one.
The automaton woman floated at the center of the sphere, water drifting around her marble limbs. She snapped her head back and forth, trying to track the movement around her as Arthur and Mera began to swim in wide arcs. Atlanteans underwater were terrifyingly fast—So inside this sphere, they were unbound completely, they were in their natural habitat. Their speed escalated beyond human sight, beyond surface-world logic. Their bodies blurred, streaks of motion twisting around the automaton like predatory sharks circling wounded prey.
Each time she turned, they had already moved.
Each time she tried to anticipate them, they changed angle.
They were everywhere—yet nowhere she could grasp.
Then came the first strike.
Arthur shot toward her like a missile, his trident grazing across her cheek. For the first time, a sliver of damage appeared: a thin, deliberate cut breaking the perfection of her polished face.
Before she could react, Mera appeared from the opposite angle. Her fist slammed across the same cheek, widening the wound into a faint hairline fracture.
Arthur followed immediately, extending the split.
Mera struck again, the fracture spreading like a spiderweb.
Arthur.
Mera.
Arthur.
Mera.
The barrage continued in a blur—dozens of impacts in the span of seconds. The sphere pulsed with each strike, vibrations ripping through the water as the automaton was hammered from all directions. She couldn’t fight back. She couldn’t orient herself. She could barely remain upright as cracks began to spread across her marble skin, climbing along her temples, jawline, shoulders, and torso.
By the time the barrage ceased, she floated unsteadily in the middle of the sphere, dazed and fractured from crown to chest.
Arthur and Mera positioned themselves on opposite ends of the watery globe. They crouched low, legs coiling with power, their eyes locking with silent understanding.
Then—they launched.
Both shot forward at mach speed, tearing through the water in two converging streaks. Their fists extended with perfect synchronization, their muscles flexing with last-resort strength.
Their punches struck at the exact same millisecond.
Their fists hit the automaton’s cheeks simultaneously, compressing her face inward with catastrophic force.
Cracks raced across her head like lightning—then her entire skull shattered, bursting outward into a cloud of rubble and dust as Arthur and Mera’s fists collided in the center.
The impact triggered a concussive shockwave.
The spherical water formation ruptured violently—exploding outward and drenching the entire exhibition room. Water slammed into walls and displays, sending cracks racing across the marble floor, the pillars, and even the ceiling. Shards of tile and broken artwork clattered across the drenched room as the shockwave dissipated.
Arthur and Mera were flung backwards, each colliding with opposite walls. They slid down, landing in crouches, chests heaving, drenched but still composed. Slowly, they stood, pushing their wet hair back from their eyes, and made their way toward the crater where the automaton’s remains lay scattered in dozens of pieces.
Among the debris, the shell necklace rested intact.
They both reached for it at the same time.
Their hands closed around it together. They blinked at each other—surprised, momentarily startled—then both broke into soft laughter, the tension easing from the air around them.
Still holding the necklace between them, their gazes lingered.
Arthur looked down at Mera—her smile bright, her laughter soft, her hair sticking to her cheeks in damp, wild strands. Something warm flickered behind his ocean-blue eyes. He reached forward, tenderly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, fingertips brushing her cheek.
“We make a great team, don’t we?” he said gently.
Mera felt her heart flutter, her breath hitching at the warmth in his tone. His touch, the softness of his gaze—after everything, it cut through her like the calm after a storm.
Her lips curled into a quiet, heartfelt smile as she leaned into his hand. “The best…” she whispered, eyes closing as her body pressed closer to his warmth.
Comments
Bryan Vargas
She's what I would call either a Battle Mage or a Magic Knight/Brawler/Swordsmen
Sin Vergil
I'm glad Mera doesn't fall into the typical mage trappings. I.E. she can actually get physical, is more than just her magical powers, and can beat the shit out of things with raw physical strength. TYFTC.
