Inside the lighthouse, Arthur opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer, draining most of the bottle in a single pull before dropping onto the couch with a tired sigh.
The television murmured in the background while Tom Curry sat in his usual chair, watching whatever happened to be on.
Tom glanced over and immediately noticed the irritation written across his son's face.
"Something happened?"
Arthur snorted and took another drink. "Nothing important. Just some scammers who've been annoying me since this afternoon."
"They must be pretty dedicated scammers."
"You have no idea." Arthur leaned farther into the couch and shook his head.
Tom laughed and turned his attention back to the television.
The peaceful atmosphere lasted exactly one more second.
The front door exploded inward with a deafening crash, the entire frame splintering apart as several armored figures stormed into the lighthouse. Arthur was on his feet immediately.
The armor was unmistakable — Atlantean. The lazy annoyance vanished from his face, replaced by instant alarm.
The soldiers moved with perfect discipline, raising their weapons in unison. For a brief moment Arthur assumed they had come for him. Then he realized every weapon in the room was pointed directly at Tom.
Arthur's blood ran cold. "NO!"
He launched himself across the living room without a second thought, throwing his body between his father and the incoming attack.
The energy blast struck him square in the chest and hurled him through the room hard enough to smash into the wall, wood cracking loudly as the force drove deep fractures through the paneling.
Tom stared in shock while Arthur forced himself upright. The soldiers adjusted their formation and prepared another volley.
Arthur pushed himself free of the damaged wall, broken wood falling around him. "Who the hell sent you?"
One of the armored figures stepped forward. "The Emperor of Atlantis has declared you an enemy of the throne."
Arthur's jaw tightened. Orm. Of course it was Orm.
The soldiers opened fire again. Arthur flipped the couch onto its side and used it as cover while blasts of energy ripped through the living room, furniture exploding into splinters and chunks of wood flying through the air.
As he searched for an opening, his eyes landed on something hanging on the wall.
His mother's trident.
He lunged toward it and ripped it free. One of the soldiers moved out of formation attempting to get a clear shot, and Arthur hurled the trident with all his strength.
The weapon crossed the room like a missile and slammed through the soldier's armor before embedding itself deep into the wall behind him.
Another attacker charged. Arthur met him head-on, his fist crashing into the Atlantean's helmet with enough force to cave the metal inward, sending the soldier flying backward through a table in a shower of broken wood.
A third raised his rifle and Arthur grabbed the television beside him and launched it across the room, the screen smashing into the soldier's chest and sending him crashing into what remained of the entertainment center.
The battle ended almost as quickly as it had begun.
Broken furniture littered the floor, smoke drifted from damaged electronics, shattered glass covered half the room, and pieces of the front door were scattered everywhere.
The house living room looked less like a home and more like the aftermath of a natural disaster.
Tom slowly climbed to his feet and took in the destruction around him, his gaze moving from the unconscious soldiers to the smoking remains of the entertainment center before settling on Arthur.
"Is everything okay, son?"
Arthur looked at the hole where the front door used to be, the unconscious soldiers sprawled across the floor, and the burning remains of what had once been his couch. After a long moment he turned back and let out a weary sigh.
"Remember those scammers I mentioned earlier?"
Tom nodded.
Arthur rubbed a hand across his face. "They might have had a point."
A few minutes later, Arthur stormed out of the lighthouse.
At this point, he was ready to agree to whatever insane plan those two were trying to drag him into. One thing was already painfully clear: his peaceful life was officially over.
Unfortunately, neither of them was standing outside.
Arthur looked around the shoreline, his irritation growing by the second.
Then a voice drifted down from above.
"Now, didn't your opinion change?"
Arthur looked up.
Daniel was sitting on top of the house, casually swinging his legs over the edge as if he hadn't just predicted an assassination attempt.
"You fucker," Arthur snapped. "Was this your doing?"
"Nope."
Daniel shrugged.
"I warned you this afternoon, but you ignored me. This is the result."
Arthur's eye twitched.
The worst part was that the smug bastard wasn't even wrong.
For several seconds, Arthur seriously considered climbing up there just to punch him.
In the end, he forced himself to calm down.
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I agree."
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
"Agree to what?"
Arthur's jaw clenched.
"Whatever plan you have."
A grin immediately spread across Daniel's face.
"See? Was that so hard?"
*****
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