"Who is Warren?" Orm looked at the oddly dressed, neurotic man with utter confusion.
Suddenly, a group of strangers had appeared, claiming to rescue him. Orm's first thought was that it was another one of his brother's schemes.
"No time to explain! We'll talk once we're out!" Alan grabbed the chains and pulled with all his might. Nanaue, seeing this, mimicked his actions.
"Don't waste your energy," Orm said weakly. "These chains are made of a special metal, and the other end is connected to a gear mechanism. I designed this prison myself." He lamented not having designed any escape mechanisms. The former King of Atlantis, his throne usurped, his wife stolen—he was disheartened but yearned for a chance to make a comeback.
Clang!
Before he could continue his lament, Alan had sliced through one of the chains with his knife.
"It seems my knife is superior," Alan declared, then sliced through the other chain. "Nanaue, carry Aquaman's little brother, Kelp-head. Let's go."
The sand blocking the entrance began to flow outwards, creating a pushing force that prevented the Lost Tribe's mounts from digging through. Just then, Nick turned and released his control over the sand. Instantly, the sand rushed in like a tidal wave. As it filled the prison cell, he controlled it to form a sand wave, carrying them all out of the cavern. The surrounding Lost Tribe were powerless to stop the rushing sand, and could only watch as they escaped.
"Chieftain, should we pursue?" a Lost Tribe warrior asked a more imposing member.
"No need. Let the oceanic kingdoms deal with them." The Lost Tribe had their own agenda. Orm had made many promises during his reign, but with the new king, all those agreements were void. They had little respect for the current Atlantean kingdom. Besides, the new king ignored matters of state, leaving power in the hands of the greedy nobles, who didn't even recognize the Lost Tribe's legal status in the united kingdoms of Atlantis.
On the golden desert, a fountain of sand erupted from the ground, carrying the group out of the Lost Tribe's territory.
Alan explained his purpose. Grateful for being rescued, Orm agreed to help, but only this once. His heart was set on reclaiming his throne. As a pure-blooded Atlantean, he held the traditional noble disdain for half-bloods.
They boarded the helicopter and headed for the nearest quantum teleportation point.
In a bustling city, people enjoyed a rare weekend. The city was vibrant with the energy of its youth. And, of course, where there were criminals, there were heroes to punish them.
A man in a hooded sweatshirt walked alone through a chaotic neighborhood. His face was etched with anxiety, and he avoided eye contact with passersby. Suddenly, a large man dragged him into an alley, brandishing a gold-plated pistol. "Kid, hand over your money, or else."
"I've been waiting for my prey for a long time." Under the hood, a pale, gaunt face revealed a pair of fangs, his eyes glowing with a crimson light. Dr. Michael Morbius had been living as a wanderer ever since his body had changed. He had initially suppressed his bloodlust with artificial blood, but over time, its effects had diminished until it was now useless. By chance, he had tasted the blood of a living person and found that it was a much more effective suppressant. So, he often roamed the streets at night, waiting for prey. Though the act of drinking blood disgusted him, he knew that if he didn't suppress the urge, he would lose his sanity.
"Shit! What the hell are you?!" The criminal didn't hesitate to pull the trigger.
BANG!
A gunshot echoed through the alley. Morbius tilted his head, dodging the bullet, ready to strike.
ZAP!
The criminal's body convulsed as electricity coursed through him.
Morbius looked up in surprise at the red-haired woman in a black catsuit.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Natasha. A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Morbius." Black Widow introduced herself and explained her purpose. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has been monitoring you for a long time. We're willing to help you with your… problem."
Sharp nails extended from Morbius's fingertips. He didn't trust S.H.I.E.L.D.'s so-called goodwill. The organization operated outside of national laws, and its methods were often heavy-handed. Due to his condition, Morbius could never be a "hero" in a spandex suit, so he had joined the ranks of the anti-heroes, often taking on missions against criminal organizations.
"Thank you for your offer," Morbius said, refusing, "but I don't need your help."
"I hope you make the right choice," Natasha warned. If Morbius had harmed ordinary people, it wouldn't have been her who came looking for him, but a fully armed tactical team.
"Only children make choices. I want them all."
A dark figure dropped from the sky, landing between them.
"Batman?" "Alan?" they both said in unison.
"Black Widow, do I hold such a high place in your heart that you recognized me at a glance? I'm so touched! Kisses!" Alan puckered his lips and leaned in.
Natasha immediately drew her gun. "One more step and I'll shoot your front teeth out."
"Then I'll have to perform my 'catch a bullet with my mouth' trick," Alan said, baring his teeth and opening his mouth wide, daring her to shoot.
"What do you want?" Natasha couldn't fathom Alan's thoughts.
"Batman is on vacation. Gotham is in trouble. I'm recruiting a team. Interested in helping? No pay, just volunteer work," Alan said frankly.
"Who works for no pay?" Natasha asked, then seized on the key point. "You're saying Batman is gone again?"
"It seems Batman's frequent absenteeism is no longer a secret," Alan sighed.
"You can do what you want. I'm leaving. Gotham is under the Justice League's protection. It's not my place to interfere." Natasha started to walk away. She knew Gotham was in trouble, but it was the Justice League and A.R.G.U.S.'s jurisdiction. She didn't want to start a turf war. Besides, she, a mere mortal, couldn't handle the vampires.
"Black Widow, don't leave me! Can you bear to see a madman wandering the streets alone? What if a mugger tries to do something unspeakable to me? My pure, chaste body… I've been saving it for you!" Alan reached out dramatically, his face a mask of sorrow. "Black Widow, without you, how can I go on? Black Widow…"
Natasha clenched her fists, her brows furrowed. She quickened her pace.
As her figure disappeared from the alley, Alan lamented, "Another woman who can't face her own feelings. What a tragedy. Why do so many people covet my peerless beauty?" He looked lovingly at his right hand. "Alas, I am only loyal to my Righty." He then brought his hand to his nose and took a deep sniff. "Righty, you smell like me."
"Lefty, please keep your distance. I don't like lingering attachments. Please give up your unrealistic fantasies."
Morbius watched, a chill running down his spine, as Alan performed a one-man love triangle.
Suddenly, Alan looked at him. "What do you want?" Morbius pressed himself against the wall, terrified of the madman's unpredictable rage.
Slap!
Alan slammed a hand against the wall, trapping him. "I like the look of you. Want to join my Midnight Bullies team? I guarantee you'll have a blast."
A blast? Morbius looked disgusted, assuming it was some kind of indecent proposal.
"What's with that look?" Alan said righteously. "The Midnight Bullies are a legitimate team, formed to solve Gotham's crisis. We'll probably end up fighting the Justice League and the Avengers, and it will probably end badly."
"Can I decline?" Morbius asked, his spectral vision fixed on the throbbing veins in Alan's neck. He swallowed hard. His bloodlust was returning.
Pfft…
A syringe was jabbed into Morbius's leg. He looked down in shock, feeling a surge of power coursing through him.
"Feeling like you're about to explode?" Alan asked smugly.
"What did you inject me with?" Morbius looked at the back of his hand in disbelief. Red light pulsed through his veins. This was no ordinary blood.
"You know about gods, right?"
"Gods!?" Morbius's eyes lit up. "Is this the blood of a god?"
"Of course not. I can't fight a god. And the minor old gods are hiding in the mountains. I don't have time to hunt them down," Alan said truthfully. "Actually, this is the blood of a demigod. My pet, Nanaue, is the son of the Shark God. He was teething the other day, so I collected some of his blood for research."
"If you can provide a continuous supply of demigod blood, I'll join your team." Morbius could feel his bloodlust completely vanish. This was far better than human blood. It even enhanced his powers. He was eager to study it further, hoping to find a permanent solution to his condition.
"No problem," Alan said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And I have a second proposal for you. Want to hear it?"
"Please, tell me."
[Chapter Complete]
***
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