Off the coast of Manhattan, the mighty armies of Atlantis were being roasted alive under the relentless attacks of Wanda and the Mandarin. Massive underwater battleships were obliterated one after another—shredded like cheap scrap metal.
In the midst of battle, Namor—locked in fierce combat with Rogers and Spider-Man—suddenly heard terrified reports echo through his earpiece. His face twisted in rage.
With a roar, his golden trident split into two shimmering projections, parrying simultaneous attacks from Rogers and Spider-Man. Using the recoil to his advantage, Namor blasted backward and rocketed toward the sea.
Those soldiers—those elite warriors of Atlantis—were being decimated!
"Hey! Golden mackerel! You think you can just run away and we’ll let you off the hook?" Spider-Man fired a webline and swung through the skyscrapers, chasing Namor like a predator.
Namor knew what a "mackerel" was. He’d lived on land before—he understood all the mocking nicknames these land-dwellers used. And now, he absolutely loathed this irritating, loud-mouthed Spider-Man. The kid hadn’t stopped talking the entire fight.
"Get lost!" Namor bellowed, swinging his glowing golden trident. A blast of pure energy erupted from it and hurled toward the pursuing Spider-Man.
"Whoa there! The mackerel’s angry now!" quipped Spider-Man as he dodged the attack mid-air. "But hey, if you wanted to stay peaceful, why invade the land? Being a fish comes with responsibilities, you know!"
With a sudden whoosh, eight gleaming mechanical legs sprouted from his back—Iron Spider mode activated. Using his webs, he slingshotted himself directly at Namor and drove the metal limbs down like spears.
Namor’s trident clashed with the metal limbs in a thunderous shockwave that shattered windows for blocks around. Screams rang out from those still trapped inside the buildings.
But Namor didn’t care anymore. He had no time to waste on Spider-Man—he had to stop those two monsters from completely annihilating his forces. With that, he pushed his mutant powers to the limit, becoming a golden streak blazing through the sky as he broke through the towering tsunami wall Wanda and the Mandarin had raised.
Spider-Man blinked and lost sight of him.
"Damn, that flying fish is fast! Fine, I’ll call you Turbo Tuna now!" Spider-Man yelled, flinging himself after him.
Meanwhile, Rogers finished off the last of the Atlantean foot soldiers and leaped onto a Quinjet, rocketing toward the sea.
When Namor finally arrived at the frontline, the scene froze him in horror.
The ocean was littered with the bodies of his elite warriors. Some were frozen into ice statues. Others were charred beyond recognition.
And it all reminded him of one cursed land-dweller delicacy—grilled seafood.
Even worse, the very two monsters behind this massacre—the glowing red woman and the smug middle-aged man—were still raining destruction. Battleships were crumpling like toys, their burning wreckage drifting across the sea.
Namor did a quick mental count. Over half of his fleet was gone.
"Nooooo!" he screamed, his fury shaking the ocean.
He had never suffered such humiliation since becoming the King of Atlantis.
Three towering water pillars rose around him, spiraling with elemental force.
He wasn’t just king of Atlantis—he was king of the entire ocean. Only near the sea could he unleash his full power. And now?
"You all—will die!" he roared, sending spear-sharp torrents of water toward Wanda and the Mandarin.
The Mandarin’s expression turned serious. He could feel the violent power radiating from Namor like a tidal wave.
Wanda, too, paused her attacks, now fully focused on defense.
Steam curled in the air as Namor’s water attacks clashed with their combined energy. Though the two held their ground, the onslaught didn’t stop. It came like a monsoon—endless, furious, unrelenting.
As long as there was ocean, Namor’s strength had no end.
"You will all die!" he screamed again, his voice wild with fury.
Just then, the Quinjet carrying Rogers, Spider-Man, and Bucky soared into view.
"Wanda, Mandarin—fall back immediately. It’s time to deploy the secret weapon," Rogers barked through comms.
The two glanced at each other. Without hesitation, they unleashed one final blast to repel Namor’s latest attack, then shot up into the sky.
"You think running will save you?!" Namor’s voice was now borderline deranged. His army lay in ruins. His soul was bleeding.
Under his control, the sea surged upward and took the shape of a massive shark, snapping its watery jaws and leaping at the retreating duo.
Inside the jet, Rogers turned to Doom.
"Are you sure your device will work?" he asked, tension creeping into his voice.
"I’ve calculated everything. It’s bulletproof," Doom replied without hesitation.
"Good. Then initiate it—now!"
Blue energy flooded the jet’s power core. The weapon Doom had mounted onto the aircraft began humming, charging up rapidly.
Namor paused mid-air. Something... felt wrong.
His instincts flared.
And that was never a good sign when you ruled the sea.
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