The alarm woke us at 3 AM.
Not our alarm—SHIELD's emergency broadcast, the kind they only used for significant threats.
I was on my feet instantly, the others scrambling around me. We dressed quickly, years of training making the process automatic even half-asleep.
"What's the situation?" I asked, pulling up the holographic display in our command center.
Fury's face appeared, grim as always. "We've got a problem. That Pacific energy signature you've been tracking? It just spiked. Off the charts. And it's growing."
The display showed a map of the Pacific Ocean, centered on a point roughly equidistant from Hawaii and Japan. The energy readings were concerning but not planet-threatening.
"What's causing it?" Jessica asked, already in her Spider-Woman suit.
"Best guess? Atlantean technology. We've been detecting increased activity from underwater civilizations lately. This looks like someone found an ancient weapons cache and doesn't know what they're doing with it."
"Atlantis is real?" Rogue asked.
"Very real. And very territorial. If some surface-world salvager is messing with their tech, we could be looking at an international incident." Fury leaned forward. "I need your team to investigate, secure the technology, and extract whoever's down there before Namor decides to declare war on the surface."
"Namor?" I asked.
"The Sub-Mariner. King of Atlantis. Powerful, arrogant, and has a very short temper when it comes to surface dwellers stealing Atlantean property." Fury pulled up an image of a man with pointed ears and an imperial bearing. "If he shows up before you secure that site, things will get ugly fast."
"How do we get there?" Felicia asked. "That's thousands of miles away."
"Quinjet is fueled and ready. Flight time is four hours. You'll need to move fast—our sensors show the energy signature destabilizing. Whatever they activated could explode with the force of a small nuke."
The connection cut off.
"Underwater mission with a ticking time bomb and potential Atlantean royalty," Elektra said. "Great."
"We've handled worse," I replied, though I wasn't entirely sure that was true.
Four hours later, we were hovering over the Pacific in a modified Quinjet.
"Energy signature is two hundred meters down," Jessica reported, checking the sensors. "Structure appears to be an ancient temple or installation."
"Atlantean architecture, confirmed," I said, scanning the area with my telepathy. I could sense minds below—human minds, terrified and confused. "There are people down there. At least six. They're scared."
"Can you sense anything else? Like, say, an angry Atlantean king?"
"Not yet. But if he's coming, he's not close enough for me to detect."
We suited up in the specialized diving gear Stark had provided—lightweight but capable of withstanding deep-sea pressure, with rebreathers that would last for hours. The gear also had built-in communication and enough mobility to fight if necessary.
"Remember," I said as we prepared to deploy. "We secure the civilians, shut down whatever device they activated, and extract. We're not here to start a war with Atlantis."
"And if Namor shows up?" Elektra asked, checking her weapons.
"Then we talk fast and hope he's in a reasonable mood."
We dove.
The descent was eerie. Sunlight faded quickly, replaced by the blue-green glow of bioluminescent creatures. The pressure was intense despite the suits' protection.
At two hundred meters, we found it.
The structure was massive—a temple carved from some kind of coral-like material that still glowed with faint energy. Architecture that was clearly not human, with impossible angles and flowing organic shapes.
And at its center, a device that pulsed with unstable power.
"That's what's causing the readings," Felicia said, examining it through her suit's sensors. "Some kind of energy core. And those idiots have it running at full capacity without any containment."
The "idiots" in question were a salvage crew—six people in older diving suits, clustered around the device with a mix of awe and terror. One of them saw us and frantically started gesturing.
I reached out telepathically. *We're here to help. SHIELD sent us. What did you activate?*
The response was panicked: *We don't know! We were just exploring, found this place, touched something, and it all lit up. Can't shut it down. It keeps getting hotter. Please, you have to help us!*
"They activated it accidentally," I reported to the team. "Don't know how to turn it off."
"Can you shut it down?" Jessica asked Felicia.
"Maybe. But I'll need time to understand the technology." She moved closer, her suit's sensors working overtime. "This is way beyond anything I've worked with. The power source appears to be drawing energy from geothermal vents below. If it continues accelerating…"
"Boom," Elektra finished.
"Big boom. Tidal wave big. Coastal devastation big."
"How long do we have?"
"Thirty minutes. Maybe less."
"Then we split up," I decided. "Felicia, Maya—you work on shutting down the core. Elektra, Jessica, Rogue—get those civilians to the surface. I'll stay here and provide telepathic support if needed."
Everyone moved to their tasks. I positioned myself where I could monitor the entire situation with my telepathy, reaching out to map the temple and search for any approaching threats.
That's when I felt it.
A presence. Powerful, ancient, and moving toward us at incredible speed.
"We've got company," I announced. "Something's coming. Fast."
Namor arrived like a force of nature.
He moved through the water with impossible grace and speed, his form cutting through the deep like a torpedo. I could sense his mind now—furious, imperial, absolutely certain of his authority.
He materialized in front of us, and despite everything I'd seen, he was impressive. Tall, powerfully built, with an arrogant bearing that somehow worked underwater. His pointed ears and the small wings at his ankles marked him as something more than human.
"Surface dwellers," he said, his voice somehow carrying perfectly through the water. "Defiling Atlantean sacred grounds. This is an act of war."
"We're not defiling anything," I said quickly, projecting calm through my telepathy. "We're here to prevent a disaster. Your technology was activated accidentally by salvagers. We're trying to shut it down before it explodes."
Namor's eyes narrowed. "You dare touch the power cores of my ancestors?"
"Your ancestors' power core is about to detonate with enough force to devastate your underwater cities along with our coastal regions," I said bluntly. "We can argue about jurisdiction after we prevent mutual destruction."
He moved closer, studying me with those intense eyes. I could feel him testing my resolve, looking for weakness.
"You are telepathic," he observed. "Rare among surface dwellers. And you speak with confidence despite being utterly outmatched."
"I speak with urgency. We have maybe twenty minutes before this entire structure becomes ground zero for an explosion. Help us shut it down, and we'll leave your sacred site immediately."
For a long moment, Namor said nothing. Then he turned toward the core where Felicia and Maya were working.
"The surface thief is attempting to interface with technology she cannot comprehend," he said. "She will fail, and you will all die for your trespass."
"Then help her," I challenged. "You know this technology. Guide her. Or stand there and let pride destroy both our peoples."
His jaw clenched. I could feel the war in his mind—anger at the intrusion versus pragmatism about the threat.
Finally: "Very well. But know this, telepath—Atlantis remembers this violation. There will be consequences."
"We'll discuss consequences after we survive," I replied.
Namor moved to where Felicia was working. "Move aside, surface dweller. I will handle this."
"With pleasure," Felicia said, stepping back. "Any insight would be helpful right about now."
"This is an energy matrix from the Third Dynasty," Namor said, his hands moving over the device with practiced familiarity. "It draws power from thermal vents and amplifies it through crystalline resonators. Your salvagers overloaded the primary containment field when they activated it."
"Can you shut it down?"
"Not immediately. The energy must be bled off gradually or the sudden cutoff will cause an explosion anyway." His hands moved in complex patterns, manipulating the device. "It will take time."
"How much time?" I asked.
"Fifteen minutes. Perhaps less if the secondary resonators hold."
"We don't have fifteen minutes."
"Then you should have thought of that before violating Atlantean territory." Despite his words, Namor was working quickly, clearly aware of the danger.
I reached out with my telepathy, examining the device's energy patterns. I wasn't a technician, but I could sense the flow of power, the patterns it followed. Maybe there was something I could do.
"What if we manually vented the excess energy?" I suggested. "Redirected it into the surrounding water before it could reach critical mass?"
"That would require someone to maintain a constant telepathic link with the core, guiding the energy dispersion," Namor said. "The mental strain would be considerable. Possibly fatal."
"But possible?"
He looked at me, something like respect in his eyes. "Possible. For someone with sufficient power and discipline."
"Then let's do it."
I positioned myself at the core, placing my hands on its surface.
The moment I made contact, I understood Namor's warning. The device wasn't just mechanical—it was partially psychoactive, designed to respond to Atlantean telepaths. The energy flowing through it was immense, barely contained.
I reached out with my telepathy, not trying to control the device but to guide it. Showing it where to release the building pressure, how to bleed off excess power gradually.
It was like trying to direct a flood with my bare hands.
The strain was immediate and intense. Energy coursed through my mind, burning neural pathways. I could feel blood trickling from my nose, taste copper in my mouth.
But it was working. The energy signature was dropping, the dangerous buildup dissipating into the surrounding water as heat and light.
"He's doing it," Felicia said, monitoring the readings. "The core temperature is dropping."
"Not fast enough," Namor replied. "The salvagers' tampering created a feedback loop. The core is fighting his direction."
"Then help him," Jessica said. "You're telepathic too, right? Atlanteans have psychic abilities?"
"We do. But assisting a surface dweller…" He trailed off, clearly conflicted.
"Pride versus survival," Elektra said bluntly. "Choose quickly."
Namor's jaw tightened, then he moved beside me, placing his own hands on the core. "Do not interpret this as friendship, surface dweller. I merely refuse to let my ancestors' technology be the cause of Atlantean casualties."
His telepathic presence joined mine, and the difference was staggering. He had centuries of experience, intimate knowledge of the technology, and power that dwarfed my own in this specific application.
Together, we guided the core's energy dispersion, our minds working in surprising synchronization. What would have taken me twenty minutes and possibly killed me, we accomplished in five.
The core powered down, its dangerous glow fading to a gentle pulse.
I collapsed, exhausted. Namor stood steady, barely winded.
"You have… impressive mental fortitude," he admitted grudgingly. "For a surface dweller."
"Thanks. I think."
"This does not absolve the violation of Atlantean territory," he continued. "But you have prevented disaster. That counts for something."
"What happens now?" I asked.
"Now, you and your team leave. The salvagers will be taken into Atlantean custody—they disturbed sacred grounds and must answer for it."
"We can't just let you take them," Jessica protested.
"They committed crimes in Atlantean waters, against Atlantean property. They will be judged by Atlantean law." His tone brooked no argument. "However, I am not unreasonable. They will be treated fairly and returned to the surface once appropriate… restitution is made."
It wasn't ideal, but it was better than war.
"And what about us?" I asked.
Namor studied me for a long moment. "You are Marcus Cole. The one who faced down the Dominators. Word of your exploits has reached even Atlantis."
"Didn't know we were famous underwater."
"Famous is perhaps too strong a word. But known. And respected, to a degree." He moved closer. "I will be watching you, telepath. Atlantis may have need of surface dwellers who can be reasoned with. Should that time come, we will speak again."
"Looking forward to it," I said, not entirely sure if that was true.
Namor gestured, and Atlantean warriors emerged from the shadows—I hadn't even sensed them. They moved to secure the salvagers and the core.
"Leave now," Namor commanded. "And tell your SHIELD that future violations will not be met with such mercy."
We didn't need to be told twice.
Back on the Quinjet, heading home, we all let out collective breaths.
"That was way too close," Felicia said. "Another few minutes and we would have been vapor."
"But we weren't," I said. "We handled it."
"With help from an Atlantean king who could have killed us all with one hand tied behind his back," Jessica pointed out. "We got lucky, Marcus."
She was right. The entire mission had been a reminder of how much stronger we needed to become. Namor had been operating at a level we couldn't match. If he'd decided we were threats rather than nuisances, we'd have been in serious trouble.
"We need to train harder," I said. "All of us. The threats are escalating. Dominators, Atlanteans, whatever comes next—we can't keep scraping by on luck and quick thinking."
"Agreed," Elektra said. "But training can only take us so far. You especially, Marcus. Your telepathy is powerful, but you're pushing it to limits that could break you."
"What are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting that maybe you need specialized training. From someone who understands psychic powers at a level we can't teach."
"Like who?"
"Xavier's already offered to help you refine your techniques," Jessica said. "And Emma Frost, despite her… issues… knows more about advanced telepathy than almost anyone."
"Emma's in a SHIELD prison for trying to wake Apocalypse," I reminded her.
"Yeah, but she's also the best teacher for cosmic-level psychic powers. If you could work with her under controlled conditions…"
I thought about it. The idea of working with Emma again made me uneasy after her betrayal. But Jessica had a point—we were facing threats that required power I didn't have yet.
"I'll think about it," I said finally. "But first, let's get home. I need a shower, food, and about twelve hours of sleep."
"Now that's a plan I can support," Felicia said.
As we flew back to New York, I reflected on the mission. We'd succeeded, barely. Made an important—if tense—contact with Atlantis. But we'd also been reminded that Earth was full of powers we barely understood.
The Celestials could wait—that threat was too advanced. But there were plenty of others. Atlantis, Latveria, the Hand, rogue Enhanced individuals, cosmic threats that weren't quite god-level yet.
We needed to be ready.
And that meant getting stronger. All of us.