The commanding officer stared ahead, lips slightly parted, unable to make sense of what he was seeing.
Around him, the crews manning the sonic turrets and attack craft looked just as confused. Orders had nearly stopped altogether, and for the first time since Giganto had appeared in that sector, nobody seemed to know what they were supposed to do.
The creature had halted in the middle of its advance.
Only moments earlier, it had been tearing through structures, enduring gunfire, and forcing its enormous body against the defenses without showing any intention of slowing down. The turrets still had him in their sights, and a few continued hammering his skin with sonic pulses, but none of it seemed to be causing any real damage.
Then a deep sound rose from his chest.
It bore little resemblance to the roars they'd heard before. This was a heavy, drawn-out wail, low enough to be felt through the water before it reached their ears. The vibration rolled across the defensive platforms and settled uncomfortably in the soldiers' chests.
Giganto began to shake.
At first, the tremor was barely noticeable on a body that large. It soon spread through his arms and legs, worsening until the beast lost his balance and brought both hands to his head. His fingers clawed frantically at his skin, as though he were trying to tear away something no one else could see.
The commander watched, unable to look away.
Another wail crossed the battlefield, rougher than the first. With each one, the creature's voice seemed to twist a little further, until it no longer sounded entirely like his own.
A few of the soldiers still had their hands on the firing controls.
Slowly, they lowered them.
"What the hell is happening to him...?" one operator muttered.
No one answered.
The transformation continued in front of them.
Color began draining from one side of Giganto's body, spreading from his face across his torso and limbs. Dark lines appeared beneath the skin at the same time, branching outward as the pallor advanced.
(image)
Every movement stirred the water around the fortifications, lifting sediment and debris left behind by the fighting. Giganto kept reaching for his neck and face while the discoloration spread farther.
Then one of his enormous eyes changed.
The surface turned completely black.
At its center, the iris became a vivid violet.
The commander felt a knot form in his stomach.
Whatever was happening to Giganto had changed the feeling of the entire battlefield. Only minutes ago, they'd been facing a rampaging beast.
Now there was something else behind those eyes.
Giganto stopped clawing at himself.
His arms lowered, though the tremors remained, uneven and awkward, almost as if he were having to relearn how to move.
Before anyone could decide what that meant, an alarm tore through the defensive positions.
Several panels flashed at once.
New signals flooded the radar.
"Movement behind the target!"
The commander snapped toward one of the displays.
A mass of combatants was advancing from the far side of the sector.
Attuma's barbarians.
Hundreds poured between the damaged structures and the terrain Giganto had torn apart, spreading across the battlefield as they approached the defenses.
They opened fire almost immediately.
The first projectiles streaked through the water and struck the Atlantean positions. Seconds later, several missiles launched from the invading ranks toward the aircraft patrolling overhead.
"Incoming missiles!"
Two craft managed to evade them.
A third took a direct hit and lost stability, followed soon after by two more forced out of formation.
"Combat formation!" a voice ordered over the communications channel. "All air units, leave Giganto's perimeter and concentrate fire on Attuma's forces!"
The pilots were already moving.
"Copy!"
"Squadron Three, switching targets!"
"Sonic turrets awaiting orders!"
The officer looked toward Giganto one last time.
The creature was still changing, towering over the battlefield like a living mountain. No one understood what had happened to him, and there was no longer time to find out.
The invasion had reached them.
"Turrets One through Six, fire on the front line! Don't let them reach the defensive positions!"
"Understood!"
The cannons swung around and opened fire.
Attuma's forces answered at once, filling the water between both armies with projectiles, energy blasts, and missiles.
Atlantean craft descended to support the defenders from above while soldiers reinforced the positions between the fortifications.
"Left flank, hold!"
"They're surrounding us!"
"Then stop them! Unit Seven, reinforce that sector!"
"On our way!"
Another barrage cut through the area.
Aircraft broke formation to intercept it while the turrets kept pounding the advancing line.
"Any word from the king? Reinforcements?" the commander asked, turning toward communications.
The operators exchanged a quick look before shaking their heads.
"Nothing, sir. The other sectors are still overloaded."
"Any available units?"
"None are responding."
He turned back toward the fighting.
Atlantean aircraft were struggling to slow the barbarian advance, their fire crossing in front of the fortifications.
Beyond them, Giganto still dominated the underwater horizon, paler now than he had been only minutes before.
The sight stirred a memory the commander hadn't thought about in years.
When he was a child, his mother used to read him stories about a very different Atlantis. Tales of creatures born in the deepest reaches of the ocean, invading peoples descending on their borders, and whole generations forced to fight simply to preserve their home.
Back then, they'd sounded like adventures.
He grew up listening to them until Namor came, the borders became safer, and Atlantis's enemies learned fear. Little by little, those stories faded into relics of another age.
Now a colossal monster stood before their defenses, an invading army was bearing down on them, and there was still no word from their king.
The commander swallowed.
Maybe he'd forgotten something important.
Those had never been mere stories.
"Perro salchicha" 🎶 ("Sausage dog")
A voice suddenly echoed across the battlefield.
It was so unexpected, so completely out of place, that soldiers and barbarians alike stopped for a moment.
"...gordo bachicha, toma solcito a la orilla del mar..." 🎶 ("...chubby little dachshund, soaking up some sunshine by the sea...")
The song drifted through the water, deep and mocking, carrying a cheerfulness that felt profoundly wrong coming from something like that.
Every head turned toward Giganto.
Whatever he had been only moments earlier was gone.
(image)
His body had become completely pale, almost corpse-like, while thick black cracks spread over his skin like rotten veins. Both eyes were now entirely dark, seeming to swallow the light around them, with violet irises glowing at their centers.
Giganto was watching the barbarians.
The ones nearest to him.
They noticed.
One by one, they stopped moving.
That gaze alone was enough to freeze them where they stood. Some dropped their weapons without realizing it. Others tried to back away, only to find that their legs barely responded.
The presence radiating from the creature, combined with his grotesque, unnatural appearance, pressed down on them until even moving became difficult.
(image)
"I caaaaaan seeeeee you..."
There was something almost playful in the creature's voice.
Something deeply wrong.
Then one of his enormous hands moved.
The impact shook the entire area.
Dozens of barbarians vanished beneath it as nearby structures shuddered from the force.
"Tiene sombrero de marineeero" 🎶 ("He wears a sailor's hat")
Giganto moved again.
This time both arms swept across the front line, scattering the hundreds of barbarians frozen before him. Some were thrown across the battlefield, others struck the ground or disappeared among the debris, and through it all the creature kept singing with that same impossible mix of mockery and amusement.
"Y en vez de traje se puso collar" 🎶 ("And instead of a suit, he put on a collar")
That finally snapped everyone out of it.
The Atlanteans reacted with confusion.
Attuma's men reacted with terror.
Their formation collapsed.
Some rushed toward the nearest buildings. Others tried reaching the vessels still hovering over the sector. Many simply turned around and fled the way they'd come, firing behind them as though distance alone might save them.
To Giganto, they were barely spreading out.
The difference in scale made every escape attempt almost absurd. Each step disturbed the seabed and pushed enough water to throw nearby fighters off course. Buildings barely reached partway up his legs, and even those trying to gain altitude remained well within reach of his arms.
One vessel pushed its engines hard in an attempt to escape.
Giganto's hand appeared behind it.
The pilot reacted just in time, banking sharply and slipping through the space between two enormous fingers.
A deep laugh rolled through the water.
"It's like trying to catch a butterfly."
Farther ahead, several barbarians managed to regroup.
They turned their weapons toward Giganto's face and opened fire while the others continued retreating.
Missiles and projectiles struck his pale skin.
Giganto stopped.
The barrage faded.
For a few seconds, the warriors simply waited.
His violet eye remained fixed on them.
"Was that all?"
Then he started forward again.
There was no urgency in his movements because there didn't need to be. A handful of strides erased the distance the barbarians had fought so hard to gain.
One massive arm swept across the group, and the current alone scattered fighters between the damaged structures.
By then, orders had become almost meaningless.
Officers shouted through overloaded channels, but the retreat had fractured into individual decisions. Some ran for the ships, others hid among the ruins, and a few continued firing.
The Atlantean defenders could only watch.
Minutes ago, they'd been struggling to contain the invasion.
Now the enemy front was coming apart on its own.
Giganto moved without hurry, drifting from one group to another whenever some new reaction caught his interest. Every so often, that childish melody returned from his enormous throat, quiet enough that those fleeing were left wondering just how close he was.
"Much better."
The violet iris moved across the battlefield.
"Now you actually look afraid."
And Giganto kept coming.
===
Namor noticed the change in the light first.
Atlantis's forces were still pushing against Wakanda's defenders while floodwater covered the streets and rescue craft carried civilians away, but the sky above them had darkened far too quickly to ignore.
Heavy black clouds swallowed the region.
Lightning followed soon afterward.
Hundreds of bolts struck the Atlantean positions, hitting the saltwater directly and carrying the charge through the flooded streets. The advancing lines immediately began to break apart as some soldiers scrambled for dry ground while others tried to escape the areas where electricity kept spreading through the water.
Namor looked up.
Beyond the rain, a figure hovered among the clouds.
Each flash revealed her for a fraction of a second before darkness swallowed her again.
The king ascended.
The wings at his ankles drove him upward against the wind until several lightning bolts struck in front of him, forcing him to stop.
Only then did he get a clear look at her.
A woman floated in the heart of the storm.
(image)
Lightning flashed across her ebony skin while white hair streamed through winds strong enough to tear trees from the ground. Her completely white eyes remained fixed on him.
Namor would never have admitted it aloud, but for several seconds he wondered whether a goddess had descended from the heavens to challenge him.
The thought irritated him enough that he immediately dismissed it.
His grip tightened around the trident.
"You... who the hell are you?"
The woman didn't seem particularly impressed to have the King of Atlantis in front of her.
Wind circled her body without shifting her position, answering every subtle movement as though it were another limb.
"I have heard many names throughout my life," she answered calmly. "Some called me Mami Wata. Others, the Goddess of Storms. To those who need to classify everything they fear, I am an Omega-level mutant."
Warm air spiraled around her.
"The X-Men know me as Storm."
A faint electrical glow touched her eyes.
"But none of those names matter today."
The wind rose.
"Today, I stand before you as Ororo Iqadi Munroe."
Namor held her gaze.
"I've heard of your kind. The mutants of the surface."
"Metahumans."
She corrected him without raising her voice, with the quiet firmness of someone who wasn't accustomed to repeating herself.
"The surface is larger than your prejudices, Namor."
A brief sneer crossed his face.
"At least you know my name."
"It would be difficult to ignore the man flooding an entire country."
"A country that chose to become an enemy of Atlantis."
"And that gave you the right to punish everyone who never made that choice?"
"I don't need to justify how I protect my people to you."
"No."
Ororo's expression didn't change.
"But you will answer for what you do in their name."
For several seconds, only the storm filled the space between them.
Namor raised the trident slightly.
"Go back to your people."
"No."
There was no hesitation.
"This conflict belongs to Wakanda and Atlantis," he continued. "I'm giving you a chance. Keep interfering, and you'll stop being a spectator. Your actions will involve those you represent."
His eyes narrowed.
"Think carefully. Are you willing to turn the ocean against your people?"
The wind intensified hard enough to force Namor to correct his position. The wings at his ankles worked harder while Ororo remained exactly where she was.
"Perhaps you didn't hear what I just said."
Electricity flickered faintly in her eyes.
"Or perhaps your oversized pride is blocking your ears."
The air around her grew warmer.
"Today, I am here as Ororo, not as an X-Man. Wakanda gave me refuge when I needed it. I walked these lands. I came to know its people. Part of who I am was born here."
Thunder rolled behind her.
"So don't ask whether I'm willing to turn the ocean against me, ruler of the depths."
Ororo tilted her head slightly.
"Ask yourself whether you're willing to turn the sky against you."
Neither moved for a few seconds.
Namor broke the silence.
His arm snapped forward.
The trident left his hand like a projectile, all the strength behind the throw aimed straight at Ororo's chest.
Storm was already reacting.
Both hands extended, drawing two currents of air together in front of her.
The weapon tore through the first.
The second caught it hard enough to twist its path and send it off to the side.
Ororo watched the trident disappear into the distance before turning back to Namor.
"So be it."
The battlefield changed with her.
Dozens of tornadoes descended on the flooded areas below, driving the water back through the streets. The currents that had carried the Atlantean invasion inland slammed into the opposing force and reversed, dragging soldiers from their positions as formations began to break.
Lightning followed.
Every strike that hit the floodwater spread through those standing too close.
Units scattered.
Lines buckled.
An advance that had been pushing deeper into Wakanda only minutes earlier began to collapse.
Namor looked down.
The water was receding.
His soldiers were being separated by the currents while lightning continued hammering the front around them.
"HOW DARE YOU?!"
He snapped his attention back toward Ororo.
She was gone.
A wall of thick fog had swallowed the space where she'd been hovering.
Namor searched with his eyes, then his hearing, but neither helped much. Thunder came from every direction, leaving him with no clear point of reference, while the fog turned the world around him into featureless gray.
He raised both arms and brought his hands together.
The force displaced a huge volume of air, clearing the mist around him for a moment.
Nothing.
Then her voice came through the storm.
"Source of storms... ancient forces that cross sky and sea..."
Namor turned sharply.
"The earth knows your fury. The oceans have felt your strength. And long before mankind raised its first kingdoms, you answered the call of the heavens."
Another thunderclap almost swallowed the words.
Namor shut out the noise and listened.
There.
To his right.
"I call upon you once more, after so long."
He shot toward the voice.
The fog tore around him as Ororo's words grew clearer.
"Let the storm remember my name once again..."
The clouds opened.
She was there, suspended in the middle of the tempest with her arms spread wide, small arcs of electricity crawling over her body.
Namor accelerated.
One hand reached forward as he closed the distance.
"Ororo..."
Her eyes lifted.
"And let the heavens answer."
The clouds ignited.
Thousands of lightning bolts converged on Namor.
(image)
The discharge stopped him in midair.
Electricity locked his muscles, throwing off the wings at his ankles and leaving his body unable to respond the way he wanted.
A cry escaped before he could stop it.
For years, Namor had fought armies, creatures, and enemies capable of standing against his strength. Somewhere along the way, he'd nearly forgotten what it felt like when his own body refused to obey him.
Ororo kept the attack focused from a distance.
Part of her attention still drifted toward the city below.
The tornadoes were forcing back the water, while fresh lightning continued striking Atlantean positions. Keeping all of it under control while fighting Namor was beginning to show in her face and breathing.
Sweat ran down her skin.
"I recommend keeping your attention on the enemy directly in front of you, Miss Ororo."
SID's voice came through the communicator.
Storm looked back immediately.
Namor had stopped crying out.
He was still caught in the electrical assault, but his body had begun resisting it. The fury in his expression made his intentions obvious enough.
"He's preparing to attack," SID warned.
"You think this is enough to stop me, mutant?"
The wings at Namor's ankles snapped into motion.
He forced his way forward.
Ororo extended both hands.
A current of air began spinning beneath her, growing into a vortex that intercepted him and threw his trajectory upward.
Namor tried to break through.
Then he noticed the heat.
The current grew hotter as it carried him higher.
Ororo followed at a safe distance, keeping herself outside his immediate reach before calling the lightning down again.
Several bolts struck him before he could regain control.
He forced the small wings at his ankles harder, changed direction, and began slipping away from the next strikes.
One passed beside him.
Another flashed only a few yards behind.
Ororo raised a hand.
"Let the burning breath of the heavens descend upon these lands. Let the winds abandon the coolness of the heights and carry with them the heat of a merciless sun."
The air around Namor grew warmer.
His recovery had slowed.
The constant dry heat, combined with the electrical punishment he'd already taken, was making it harder for his body to respond the way it had at the start of the fight.
"You need to keep him dry for as long as possible, Miss Ororo," SID said. "His physiology depends heavily on contact with water. The longer you maintain these conditions, the greater your advantage. Just keep up the pressure."
"I already noticed."
Namor glanced down.
The flood still covered much of the city despite everything the tornadoes had forced back.
There was moisture in the clouds, but not enough to replace what his body was losing.
The ocean could.
He let himself fall.
The wings at his ankles folded partially against his legs.
Then he dove.
Ororo tracked him immediately.
"Do not allow him to reach the saltwater," SID warned.
"I wasn't planning to."
She lowered her arms and raised her voice over the storm.
"Winds that cross deserts and mountains, that wear away stone and bend the mightiest trees... hear my call."
The tornadoes holding back the flood began to fade.
Namor noticed.
The pressure over the water weakened.
He accelerated.
The surface rushed closer.
"Carry with you the heat of scorched earth and deny the ocean what it seeks to reclaim."
Ororo opened her eyes.
The currents above the streets changed direction all at once.
They surged upward.
Straight into Namor.
His descent stopped.
The Atlantean spread the wings at his ankles and tried to force his way through the resistance.
He gained a few yards.
Then a few more.
The hot current kept building.
Every second made it harder to push his body lower.
The water was right there.
Close enough to see.
Namor kept fighting until the rhythm of his wings began to falter.
The wind won.
His body was swept upward, carrying him away from the flood and erasing in seconds all the distance he'd managed to gain.
Ororo spread her arms again.
Sweat covered her face now, and the battle was beginning to weigh on her entire body.
Namor was still trapped in the currents.
She couldn't let him recover.
Her face lifted toward the clouds.
"Spirits of the sky, heralds of the storm... let your light pierce the darkness and your voice shake the earth."
Electricity gathered above.
"Hear my call."
The clouds brightened.
"Answer me."
And the storm answered.
====
From space, several satellites changed the orientation of their cameras almost simultaneously.
An immense mass of clouds covered part of the African continent, concentrated mainly over Wakanda. Atmospheric currents from across the region were converging on the same point, feeding new cloud systems into the formation.
The electrical activity was visible even from orbit.
(image)
Flashes moved through the cloud cover, linking together until whole sections lit up at once.
Satellite sensors recalibrated automatically.
Seconds later, thousands of lightning bolts descended over the region.
For a brief moment, Wakanda disappeared beneath a web of white light visible from space.
====
Inside a United States military installation, dozens of operators worked across rows of monitors while atmospheric and oceanic readings refreshed without pause.
General Ross stood on the raised platform at the back of the room, staring at the main screen.
Beside him, Colonel Leonard "Lenny" Mercer, the officer responsible for orbital surveillance at the facility, compared several sets of data on a tablet.
Ross pointed toward the images of Africa.
"What the hell is happening, Lenny?"
Mercer adjusted his glasses.
"We're not sure, General."
Ross turned slowly toward him.
"Excellent start. Glad to see we're putting taxpayer money to good use."
The colonel ignored the remark and expanded several graphs.
"Ocean currents changed direction within minutes. That was the first thing that caught our attention. After that came the atmospheric anomalies."
Another set of readings replaced the first.
"Pressure dropped, temperatures began fluctuating, and an abnormal amount of moisture concentrated over the same region. Then those clouds appeared."
Another wave of electrical activity crossed the display.
"And now we have this."
Ross folded his arms.
"Wakanda is some poor African country that barely shows up in our reports. Why the hell would something like this be happening there?"
Mercer gave a small shrug.
"I have absolutely no idea."
An alert sounded from another station.
One of the operators raised a hand.
"Sir, we've got another anomaly."
Mercer set his tablet aside.
"What kind?"
"Another satellite is detecting interference over Wakandan territory. We thought it was a signal problem, but it's affecting several sensors at once."
"Put it on screen."
The main display changed.
At first, the images looked exactly like the Wakanda they'd been seeing for years: dry expanses, poor roads, and small settlements scattered across great distances.
Ross stared at the screen.
"And what exactly am I looking for?"
"I'm not sure yet."
The image flickered.
Several sensor readings began shifting at once.
"We're losing the interference," the operator warned.
The display refreshed.
What appeared next looked nothing like the image from only seconds before.
Ross's arms fell to his sides.
The cigar slipped from his fingers and hit the floor without him seeming to notice.
Mercer had gone still beside him.
Where dirt roads and small villages had been moments earlier, something completely different now occupied the screen.
Neither man spoke.
For several seconds, they simply stared.
"Th-that..."
Mercer swallowed.
"That is..."
==
HEEEY, HOW'S EVERYONE DOING? HOPE YOU'RE ALL DOING WELL.
AS FOR ME... WELL, I'VE BEEN HAVING SOME PRETTY TERRIBLE LUCK. YOU HAVE NO IDEA.
BUT ANYWAY, THAT'S NOT WHAT WE'RE HERE FOR.
WE FINALLY GOT TO SEE ORORO VS. NAMOR. THAT X-MAN REALLY DOESN'T MESS AROUND, HUH?
POOR NAMOR.
MEANWHILE, IT LOOKS LIKE GIGANTO HAS AN UNWANTED GUEST IN THE HOUSE. GHOSTFREAK SURE IS HAVING A BLAST.
AND FINALLY, IT SEEMS A FEW SATELLITES ARE STARTING TO PICK UP ON SOMETHING. MAYBE THE WORLD IS ABOUT TO CHANGE VERY SOON.
REMEMBER, WE HAVE A PATREON IF YOU'D LIKE TO SUPPORT THIS CONTENT:
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SPECIAL THANKS AND A SHOUT-OUT TO:
Matthew Attis
Delak
Starkiller075
ABChronicles
Shatteredsky
AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT AND COMMENTS.
TAKE CARE, GUYS 😘