Princess Mera's hopes for a tolerable political marriage crumbled within hours of meeting her intended husband.
King Orm possessed all the superficial qualities of royal breeding, handsome features, impeccable manners, the kind of charismatic presence that commanded attention in any room. But beneath that polished exterior, Mera's enhanced senses detected something far more troubling: the cold calculation of absolute ambition wrapped around a core of barely contained violence.
Every gesture, every carefully modulated smile, every diplomatic pleasantry carried an undercurrent of threat. This wasn't a man seeking partnership, this was a predator evaluating prey, determining how best to exploit her kingdom's resources for his own grand designs.
"He wants to rule all seven seas," Mera murmured to herself as she stood alone in her assigned chambers, studying the ornate golden bracelet Orm had presented as a "welcome gift." The jewelry was beautiful enough to grace any royal collection, but its weight felt wrong in her hands, as though it carried significance beyond mere ornamentation.
The political maneuvering was transparent to anyone with basic diplomatic training. Orm needed Xebel's military support for whatever conquest he was planning, while her father King Nereus sought to leverage Atlantis's superior resources for Xebel's own advancement. She was simply the currency being exchanged to seal their mutual exploitation agreement.
The realization didn't surprise her, royal marriages had always been matters of state rather than romance. But the knowledge that her future husband viewed her as nothing more than a strategic asset still stung like salt in an open wound.
Meanwhile, in the depths of Atlantis's governmental complex, Counselor Vulko paced his private study with growing unease. The elderly advisor had served the royal family for decades, watching two very different princes grow to manhood under his tutelage. Now he was witnessing the culmination of choices that might doom both civilizations.
"The Brine Kingdom refused our alliance proposal," Orm announced as he stormed into Vulko's chambers, his silver armor clanking with each agitated step. The king's carefully maintained composure had cracked, revealing the frustrated autocrat beneath.
"They rejected your plan to attack the surface world," Vulko corrected gently, though he felt no satisfaction in being proven right about the other kingdoms' reluctance to follow Orm's militant path.
"Those barbaric creatures!" Orm snarled, his royal dignity evaporating entirely. "When I unite the remaining kingdoms under Atlantis's banner, the Brine Kingdom will learn the cost of defying their rightful sovereign. I'll personally execute their king and force the survivors to kneel!"
The casual mention of regicide sent chills down Vulko's spine. This was no longer the idealistic prince he'd helped raise, this was a tyrant in the making, drunk on visions of conquest and revenge.
"Perhaps a more diplomatic approach, " Vulko began.
Back in her chambers, Mera examined the bracelet with growing suspicion. Something about its construction didn't feel right, subtle weight distribution inconsistencies, microscopic seams that suggested hidden components, a faint electromagnetic signature that her enhanced senses could barely detect.
"I wouldn't wear that if I were you," a gravelly voice whispered from the shadows.
Mera's warrior reflexes triggered instantly, launching her into a defensive crouch as she scanned the room for threats. Her chambers were supposed to be secure, even Orm required formal permission to enter. The idea that an intruder could penetrate Atlantis's most protected spaces was both terrifying and impressive.
"Show yourself!" she commanded, though she saw nothing but empty space and familiar furnishings.
"Why not?" the voice asked with amusement. "I do love making dramatic entrances."
The floor seemed to shimmer as Ben phased upward through solid coral, his form coalescing into the icy silhouette of Big Chill. Frost trailed from his wings as they unfurled, sleek and moth-like, glinting faintly under the light. His cold, blue eyes locked onto Mera with an unblinking, predatory calm—the stillness of deep space embodied in a ghostly wraith of frost.
Mera's scream died in her throat as training overrode terror. She'd faced sea monsters and enemy warriors, but nothing in her experience had prepared her for a creature that could simply ignore the fundamental laws of physics.
"Relax," Ben said, shifting back to human form in a flash of green light. "I'm not here to hurt you."
The shift from an eerie, frost-wreathed phantom to an ordinary surface dweller was almost more unsettling than the initial emergence. Mera found herself staring at a young man who appeared completely harmless, despite having just drifted through solid coral like a ghost of the deep.
The shift from an eerie, frost-wreathed phantom to an ordinary surface dweller was almost more unsettling than the initial emergence. Mera found herself staring at a young man who appeared completely harmless, despite having just drifted through solid coral like a ghost of the deep.
"What do you mean about the bracelet?" she asked, her tactical mind focusing on actionable intelligence rather than existential questions about reality-warping abilities.
"Tracking device," Ben replied matter-of-factly, shaking seawater from his hair. Even in the palace's air-filled chambers, the humidity was oppressive enough to leave everything perpetually damp. "Your fiancé wants to monitor your movements."
Mera glanced down at the bracelet with new understanding. Of course Orm would use surveillance disguised as romantic gifts, the man's paranoia was legendary throughout diplomatic circles.
"And what's your agenda?" she asked, shifting into a combat-ready stance. "Kidnap the princess to prevent the alliance between Atlantis and Xebel?"
"You're overthinking this," Ben said with a dismissive shrug. "I'm not interested in women who defecate in their beds."
The crude insult hit Mera like a physical slap, her royal composure shattering under the weight of pure outrage. Never in her life had anyone dared speak to her with such vulgar disrespect, not servants, not enemy warriors, certainly not some random surface dweller who'd somehow infiltrated the most secure location in the seven seas.
"You dare mock royalty!" she snarled, her hands moving in the fluid gestures that activated her hydrokinetic abilities.
The humid air responded instantly to her will, moisture condensing into dozens of razor-sharp water blades that launched toward Ben's vital organs with lethal precision. She'd been careful to avoid immediately fatal strikes, capture was preferable to corpse disposal, but the projectiles carried enough force to incapacitate any normal opponent.
The water blades sliced through the chamber's coral walls like surgical instruments, carving decorative patterns into surfaces that had taken centuries to grow. But where Ben had been standing, only empty air remained.
Mera watched in disbelief as the surface dweller moved with impossible speed and agility, dodging her attacks as though he could predict their trajectories before she'd even completed the casting gestures. No ordinary human possessed such reflexes, which meant this was no ordinary human.
"My turn," Ben announced, slapping the Omnitrix with casual confidence. "Waterhazard!"
The transformation was immediate and overwhelming. Where a seemingly helpless surface dweller had stood moments before, a red-armored marine predator now dominated the chamber. The creature's bulk made the spacious royal quarters feel cramped, while bioluminescent slits glowed with barely contained power.
Ben raised one clawed hand toward Mera, and the chamber's humid air suddenly came alive with murderous intent.
The hydro-blast that erupted from his palm carried enough force to punch through battleship armor. Mera barely managed to raise a defensive water barrier before the attack struck, but the impact still sent her flying across the room to crash against the far wall in a tangle of torn fabric and bruised dignity.
"Are you from the Brine Kingdom?" Mera gasped, struggling to process what she'd just witnessed. The ability to control water was rare even among the seven underwater civilizations, most kingdoms' inhabitants could manipulate their aquatic environment only in limited ways.
"No wait," she continued, her tactical mind analyzing the creature's capabilities despite her physical discomfort. "Brine Kingdom citizens can't generate water blasts like that!"
"Thanks for providing all this lovely water to work with," Ben replied, gesturing at the soaked chamber around them.
Mera tore away her ruined formal gown to reveal the practical green battle armor beneath, a princess she might be, but warrior training had been mandatory for all royal offspring. Her hydrokinetic abilities flared to life as she drew upon the sacred power granted to Xebel's royal bloodline.
"The water you've released will become the weapon that defeats you!" she declared with renewed confidence.
But as she reached out to reclaim control of the moisture Ben had scattered throughout the chamber, nothing happened.
Mera stared at her hands in growing horror as her most fundamental ability simply... failed. For twenty years, she'd commanded the seas with the authority of divine heritage. Now that power felt like trying to grasp smoke with her bare fingers.
"What kind of sorcery is this?" she whispered.
Ben could sense her attempts to override his hydrokinetic control, like feeling someone tugging weakly on a rope he held firmly in both hands. The girl was talented, probably one of the most gifted water manipulators in her generation, but raw power trumped finesse in this particular contest.
"Let me show you something really interesting," Ben said, triggering another transformation.
Green light flashed again, and suddenly Mera found herself face-to-face with a creature she recognized from before. The distinctive flattened head, bioluminescent organ, and powerful tail configuration were unmistakable, but the implications made her head spin.
"Brine Kingdom, then Fishermen Kingdom..." she breathed as Ben's enhanced form moved toward her with predatory grace. "Who are you really?"
Before she could formulate a coherent theory, webbed claws gripped her chin and lifted her entirely off the ground. The casual display of strength was as impressive as it was terrifying, very few beings could manhandle a combat-trained Xebelian princess without obvious effort.
Ben's alien features studied her with scientific detachment as the Omnitrix completed its genetic analysis. The sample collection process was invisible to normal senses, but the device was already cataloging and storing the hydrokinetic enhancements that made Xebelian royalty so formidable.
As the scanning completed, Mera's mind raced through impossible possibilities. Shape-shifting abilities were unknown among the seven kingdoms, but the evidence was undeniable. This being possessed the physiological advantages of multiple underwater civilizations simultaneously.
"You have the powers of all seven tribes," she whispered in dawning awe. "Just like the legendary first King of Atlantis who united our peoples under a single crown!"
The historical parallel was obvious once stated. Ancient Atlantean mythology spoke of a primordial ruler who embodied the strengths of every underwater nation, leading them to unprecedented prosperity before some unnamed catastrophe scattered their empire across the ocean floor.
"Are you here to fulfill the prophecy?" Mera asked, her voice heavy with desperate hope. "To unite the seven seas under rightful leadership once more?"
Ben blinked in confusion, his alien features somehow managing to convey complete bewilderment despite their non-human configuration.
"Why would I want to unite the seven seas?" he asked with genuine perplexity. "That sounds like way more trouble than it's worth."
The practical question deflated Mera's romantic enthusiasm like a punctured balloon. In her excitement about ancient prophecies and legendary destinies, she'd forgotten that world-saving heroes typically required some form of motivation beyond mere capability.
"But you possess the abilities of all seven tribes!" she insisted, as though repetition might kindle the spark of destiny she so desperately wanted to see. "You could restore the ancient glory, bring peace between our peoples, create a golden age that, "
"Look, Princess," Ben interrupted gently, "I've got my own universe to manage. Adding underwater real estate to my portfolio isn't really a priority right now."
The casual dismissal of space responsibility would have been crushing under other circumstances, but Mera found herself oddly reassured by Ben's honest pragmatism. At least he wasn't another power-hungry megalomaniac seeking to exploit ancient legends for personal gain.
Still, the coincidence was remarkable. Here was someone who possessed exactly the capabilities needed to solve the seven kingdoms' current crisis, and he was completely uninterested in playing the role of prophesied savior.
"You really are the King of the Sea," she murmured, though whether in disappointment or admiration was unclear even to herself.
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