Work Text:
Earth-616
1942.
Location: Unknown.
Wind was howling, the sun was casting an orange glow as the sun was setting. A towering, tall, snow capped mountain with a castle built on top of it seemed like it was looking down on the rest of the world.
“Tell me why I’m here.” Namor demanded. He was inside, in a large chamber. He stood in the centre of a circular wood, standing on a floor that had men and women surrounding him from above. They were all sitting behind these tall desks, looking down on him like judges in a courtroom.
“I have been here for only minutes, but already I grow bored of your theatrics and this facade of power.” Namor continued, eyeing up the six different figures that loomed above him. “I’m not interested in your whispered secrets. I am not impressed by your castle. I am the Prince of Atlantis and I am not one to be summoned lightly.” Namor said, speaking with an icy tongue.
“You were invited , Prince Namor, not summoned. And we are honoured that you have chosen to stand before us. We are-”
“I do not care what you call yourselves. Make your point if you’re capable of having one, before I grow impatient and rip this castle of yours apart to appease my boredom.” The Prince snarled.
“Very well. I’ll ‘make my point’ in a way that even an impatient man such as yourself should understand. My colleagues and I have learned that the weapons of Atlantis have been pillaged and your people have been used for a cross-purpose.” The woman above him said. She looked to be in her late 30’s and had white hair tied into a bun. Perhaps to somebody else, she’d look scary, but not to Namor.
“So tell me, Sub-Mariner, are you still bored by what we have to say?”
Weeks later, over France. Inside a plane, Steve Rogers aka: Captain America was talking to an entire team of soldiers. He was doing his best to instil confidence in them, even if his confidence was fake.
“The sooner we get off this bird, the sooner we do what we’re here to do, the sooner we can get back to our shitty bunks and whatever gruel the mess hall is spooning out.” Steve told his men, all of which had a parachute strapped to their back as well as Captain America. “It sounds like unrewarding work, I know. But I promise you this: If you keep fighting and you keep winning, soon enough you’ll be back home.” Steve assured them, as he opened the hatch for the plane. Cold, loud wind blasted through the plane. “That ‘bunk’ is gonna be your soft, cosy bed. And that ‘gruel’ is going to be your Mom’s homemade apple pie! That’s something worth fighting for! And I'll be with you every step of the way!” Steve told them. And then he leaped from the plane and dived through the freezing air.
Steve’s always been thankful for the jumps. He only has a few seconds from the time he begins the skydive until the time his feet land on soil. Not much breathing room to think of the next thing to say. Steve always thought it was quite funny knowing nobody would care if those words were spilling out of Steve Roger’s mouth. It’s funny how a silly uniform can completely change everybody’s perspective. In reality, Steve was just as experienced as the majority of these paratroopers. Without the super soldier serum formula coursing through his veins, Steve would just be a sickly, frail kid who wouldn’t even be allowed to wear a uniform at all. But he’s Captain America now. Captain America can inspire not just these soldiers, but entire countries. And when he can’t inspire, when he can’t find the words, he can motivate them through action . As Steve was gliding through the air via his parachute, a Nazi jet came rumbling towards him. It attempted to shoot the red, white and blue target, but its aim was poor. I took a dagger out from my belt and used it to rip through the chords of the parachute. This was a bad idea. He fell from the chute and as the plane zoomed beneath him, he managed to catch the tail fin of the plane. He let out a loud groan from the sheer force of strength he had to apply in order to hold on. He pulled himself across the roof of the plane, before using his powerful biceps to punch through the cockpit window. Safe to say the pilot was in some shock to see this mad American climbing into his plane. Steve grabbed the Nazi and literally threw him out of the plane. Unfortunately the pilot had a parachute too, but Steve strapped himself in anyway.
“Thaaat’s right. I can do this all day…” Steve muttered to himself, as he looked at the controls and tried to figure out how to pilot the damn plane. It was either that or wait for another miracle. As Steve tried to figure out how to fire at the other planes that were flying around, a miracle came. At first, Steve wasn’t sure what it was, as planes around him just started exploding out of nowhere. Then soon, Prince Namor, ruler of the seas, came flying over towards him. He flew over Steve’s head. His almost entirely naked body would usually be a sight for sore eyes, but this only unsettled Steve.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Steve shouted over the loud wind.
“It was not my intention to engage in such mundane enemies, I assure you. I have far more pressing matters to attend to. But you lot were in my way!” Namor said, before pulling Steve out from the cockpit.
Namor flew Steve down and placed him down in the ruins of a town that was subjected to the unforgiving destruction of war. Buildings looked like they were crumbling away, cars were smashed into the pavements and telephone poles were laying across the roads.
“It’s not that I’m ungrateful for the assistance, Namor, but why are you here?” Steve asked when his feet touched the uneven pavements.
“You forget, this is my war, too. When the Reich falls, the world should know that a son of Atlantis helped to defeat them.” Namor answered, before landing next to Steve.
“I won’t argue that. All I meant was, it would’ve been nice to know you were coming, that way our mission could’ve been better prepped. I wasn't questioning your motives, I assure you.” Steve said, kindly.
“We may be allies, Captain. But my motives are beyond your scrutiny.” Namor said, before beginning to walk away.
“Whatever you say, Prince. But um… The real fight is about a kilometre in the other direction.” Steve said.
“If you must join your soldiers, Captain, go. My battle is this way.” Namor rolled his eyes. Steve was a bit naive, for his liking, but he did respect him.
Steve followed Namor anyway, and the Prince soon told the Captain about his enemies. According to him, a group of Nazis had pillaged his home and were testing with his people and their tech. Steve immediately recognised them… The Thule. The kind of monsters you don’t ever forget. Hitler’s personal army of occult specialists. Grave robbers and mad men with the budget of an entire nation.
Whoever tipped Namor off, gave him good information. Steve wondered who it could’ve been. They found the Thule in a factory that had been turned into a laboratory. Inside, scientists and soldiers chatted, tinkering with machinery and dials that were way beyond Steve and Namor’s comprehension. But they knew it was bad and that was enough. The lead scientist was a man whose face had been burned and disfigured across half his face. He had no hair and was in his early thirties, but he looked like he was in his early fifties. His name was Baron Strucker.
“<I’d say the initial tests have been successful, gentlemen.>*” He said, proudly.
*Translated from German
“<Let’s move the weapon to the heart of the battle and evaluate its performance against something more… robust than- >” But he was cut off, when Namor burst onto the scene. Steve’s German was a bit spotty, but he managed to pick up words like ‘STOP THEM!’ And “KILL THEM!” Steve was throwing his shield, doing his best to stop any scientist from shooting Namor - the last thing he needed was the Atlanteans to start raging war as well.
“Whatever’s going on here, Namor, if the Thule Society is involved, things just got a whole lot more shitty.” Steve said, before a couple of soldiers, equipped with flamethrowers, started blasting their flames towards them. Steve used his shield to protect himself as Baron Strucker commanded his soldiers to ‘<BURN THEIR SOULS TO ASH!>’
“I didn’t ask you to come, Captain!” Namor shouted, groaning in pain from the flames that engulfed his resilient body. The Sub-Mariner doesn’t go out of his way to make friends - it seemed there was only a thin veil separating ally from enemy in his mind. Steve threw his shield and used it to burst the flamethrower tanks strapped to their backs. They screamed in pain as fire swarmed their bodies.
“There, now we’ve both been saved from fiery death” Steve smiled.
“As if that would kill me.” Namor muttered. It really didn’t take him long to regain his strength at all. Steve didn’t really understand Namor, but he was just glad he was on his side… For now, at least. Steve ran to Strucker and grabbed him by his long military coat and lifted him into the air.
“Alright, talk! What is the Thule Society doing here?!” Steve questioned.
“Where is the weapon?!” Namor shouted, coming over as well.
“Weapon? Is there something you want to tell me?” I questioned Namor.
“You’re too late!” Strucker cackled. “We possess the power of the GODS!” He said, hysterically. Suddenly, the sound of electricity sparking and crackling filled Steve’s ears and as he turned he saw something… Terrifying. It was like something out of a horror movie. This man was wearing a helmet that looked like a skull, where the eyes were glowing a bright white. But that was normal, compared to mangled, twirling tentacles that sprouted around the skull. He wore a long, shredded black coat and pants, but was shirtless and barefoot. His body looked ill and almost skeletal though, Steve wasn’t sure if he was even alive . He was floating. Floating in the air as electrical bolts of energy shot from his hands and feet, branching off in different directions like a messy, dangerous spider web.
“What the fuck am I looking at?!” Steve shouted in horror.
“An abomination.” Namor answered, disheartened.
“The Thule call it the Kraken , although I’m sure your people call it something else. Power that could change the fate of the world.” The woman, who sat at her desk that towered above Namor, said. Back at the castle, weeks back, the woman informed Namor of the artefact. “The Thule society, unfortunately, are overeager, but we can use that to our advantage. They are hungry but undisciplined. They have yet to learn the value of waiting. The Kraken, we believe, can only be used by one of Atlantean heritage . The Thule have utilised methodologies developed by a former member of this council to create a soldier capable of wielding this weapon.” The woman explained, while Namor just stood and listened. “They have raised the dead to do their bidding.” She said and even Namor felt chills run through his body.
“Who are you? How do you know these things?” Namor questioned.
“I thought you did not care for identities.” The woman said with an amused but condescending chuckle.
“I changed my mind.” Namor said, before using the wings on his feet to fly up into the air and look his host in the eyes. “I won’t grovel beneath you. If you wish to bargain with me, if you dare attempt to mislead me, I want to see you in the light.” Namor told her, angrily.
“As you wish, Prince Namor.” The woman nodded.
“This covenant has gathered in one form or another, for many years. There are threats in the universe so terrible that it would drive most people insane to even consider them. So our members put aside our differences in hopes of preventing those threats so the Earth may continue to spin.” She explained. “My name is Vanessa Baker. For years, I have been recognised by Queens, Kings, Sultans and Emperors as the greatest detective. Greater even than my most famous of rivals.” She explained, before looking towards one of the other members that sat in their judge chairs. He wore what looked like a pilot’s cap, big chunky goggles and a long, brown coat. On his back was some kind of device, with tubes filled with liquids bubbling away that connected to it. He had a big, bushy handlebar moustache and mutton chops.
“ Jefferson Chambers has explored dozens of the countless worlds with which we share a universe. Most recently, the Micro-Verse , in search of-”
“Enlightenment.” Jefferson cut her off. Then Vanessa looked over to the next member. He was incredibly handsome and charming, with long blond hair and a sharp jawline. Deep cheekbones and furrowed eyebrows. He appeared to be quite serious.
“ Ulysses Bloodstone has dedicated his life… his endless life… to the destruction of the monsters that would otherwise lay waste to mankind.” Vanessa informed Namor. Then there was… well he looked like the very monsters that Ulysses would hunt. His face looked very primal, with big, bushy eyebrows and sideburns and hair that could rival a lion’s mane. His bottom teeth’s canines poked through his lips. He wore a dark red jacket over a white, half unbuttoned shirt that showed off his thick, chest hair and then a pair of grey pants that seemed to struggle to contain his powerful thighs.
“A gifted sorcerer Wyatt Crowley is the son of a witch and… something else.” Vanessa said.
“A lineage I’m sure would put me at the very top of Bloodstone’s to-kill list, were there no truce between us.” Wyatt nodded. The next person was especially peculiar to Namor. He wore a black, skin-tied mask with eyes that seemed to be entirely white. Namor wasn’t sure if it was part of the mask’s design, or if his eyes were really that white. He wore a black cowboy hat and then a big, grey trench coat, along with a pair of leather gloves. He was incredibly mysterious.
“For decades, the Menace used his vast fortune, knowledge of alchemy and hypnotic powers to wage a secret war with the criminal underworld. We don’t know his real name.” Vanessa admitted. Then there was a Moroccan man with wild hair that he had tried his best to style. It was black and brushed backwards down his neck and on his face was a neatly trimmed goatee. He wore silky, green robes with a red trimming that led up to a red, popped collar. A red sash also tied around his waist. The robes were sleeveless, showing off his powerful arms and the front of his robes were open enough to show off his sculpted abs and pecs. On his wrists, he wore these golden gauntlets and it wasn’t until now, Namor realised that the beastly man appeared to have smoke coming off of his skin.
“This is the Murderous Lion. He won’t give us another name. He possesses martial and mystical arts that allow him to transcend even the most brutal of injuries. He-”
“That’s enough, Baker. He’s not one of us, yet.” The Murderous Lion growled. Vanessa nodded, before looking towards Namor again.
“Which brings us to you, Sub-Mariner. And the seat we would like to offer you, at our table…”
The zombie Atlantean screeched and wailed as it summoned electricity from every which way, all the while Steve watched in horror. Using static electricity, it lifted up chains from the floor and made them charge towards Steve and Namor. But the Prince of the Seas was fast and was able to catch them in his iron grip before they could whip himself and Steve.
“The people of Atlantis will no longer be used as lab rats by the Nazis! Do you understand?!” Namor shouted, before flying towards the monster. Steve watched Namor zoom towards the Kraken. He was reminded that Namor was like a tank that could hold a grudge . He was reminded that Namor was more than human. He makes it easy to forget what being human is…
“ENOUGH!” Namor yelled, dodging electrical bolts that fired towards him, all the while Steve was dodging any explosive lightning that strayed and struck towards him. Growing up, Steve always heard if you forget something in your past, you’re doomed to repeat it. But sometimes it's simply best to leave history alone. As Steve crouched and held his shield above him, he blocked off any raining streams of burning electricity. The Thule Society has always been obsessed with digging up these horrific, inhumane weapons from a bygone age. They weren’t even weapons, they were nightmares .
“Stay back, Captain! Don’t get in my way!” Namor shouted.
“Stop trying to talk down to me and WATCH OUT!!” Steve shouted back, because due to Namor distracting himself with the American, he failed to see the electricity that struck his back. Electrical currents surged through his body, making his body stiff, before it collapsed to the ground. His back was smoking from being scorched by the electrical power. Ageless horrors might be an impressive tool for Hitler’s army, but they simply can’t get better than a strong man and his shield. Finally having an opening, Steve threw his shield and with a loud KR-RANG, it crashed against the helmet and was bashed off of the zombie’s head. It landed in a puddle and the undead Atlantean fell with a thud. Sometimes, a little human is all it takes.
“Namor, he’s stunned.” I told him, as the zombie stood back up. It looked terrifying. His eyes were white, his lips had completely deteriorated and his black hair was falling from his scalp.
“Grab him, before he-“ Before Steve said, but he trailed off when he saw Namor ripping the zombie in half… Literally. Namor grabbed his arm and tore the monster apart. Blood soaked the ground beneath as the zombie gurgled and squealed in unbearable pain. Guts and intestines spewed out of the pile of remains, making Steve feel sick. It was one of the most disturbing things Steve had ever seen.
“Like I said… an abomination .”
Namor stood on the balcony of the castle, thinking about the offer that the covenant’s offer. It wasn’t long though, before Vanessa joined him, now wearing a bowler hat along with her suit.
“I didn’t think you would be one to remain idle when there are enemies to smite.” Vanessa commented.
“Nor should you believe I gave you permission to mock me. There are always foes in need of annihilation.” Namor responded, coldly. “The trick is identifying them, even when they come bearing gifts. What does this… Covenant sand to gain from my allegiance? Speak honestly.” Namor questioned.
“Isn’t it obvious? It is the hand of the Covenant that will save the world. But we need weapons and warriors. The threat I mentioned is real and it's coming. Not today, not tomorrow, but one day soon. Its servitors are already among us. An allegiance between the Covenant and Atlantis would be a godsend for you . For your people. And the world that we share.” Vanessa explained.
“The only question is… what are you going to do with it?’
“Hmm?
“The mask. What are you going to do with the mask?” Steve asked Namor as they stood amongst the carnage that surrounded them, after their battle with the Kraken. Strucker made his escape during the destruction his ‘experiment’ created.
“This is not a treasure of Atlantis. It is a sacrilege . A totem of the devourers. A nearly forgotten Lumurian death cult. This mask could be used to win the war, but to do so would decimate the spirits of my people.” Namor explained, picking up the creepy skull-helmet. “The… thing that wore this mask… It was stitched together from the bodies of my people. The Thule enslaved the dead to create their own pawn. An attack dog grown in a lab to fight for their cause.” Namor said, getting angrier and angrier with each word. Then he crushed the mask in his hands like a can of soda. It sparked and crackled.
An attack dog grown in a lab.
Steve wondered if that’s how Namor saw him. But then again, it didn’t really matter what the Prince of Atlantis thought of him. Sure, he’s the leader of a civilisation that’s been around for thousands of years… but Steve is Captain America. Born on the lower east side, given a boost by Project: Rebirth. And those paratroopers a few klicks from here, fighting tooth and nail, for uncomfortable bunks and mess hall gruel? They need whatever glimmer of hope they can get. Not to get through centuries, but to get through the next few minutes.
A few days had passed, since Namor faced the horrors of the Kraken. Up in the castle, atop a narrow, immense mountain, Doctor Strucker stood in one of the chambers. It was a treasure room, filled with different artefacts from across the years, one of them being the Kraken helmet .
“Do you know why we brought you here, Doctor?”Jefferson Chambers asked.
“Is it punishment?” Strucker asked, calmly.
“Not at all. But if you wish to stay in our favour and thereby stay alive, you’re going to abandon your old ideologies.” Jefferson said. “As far as you’re concerned, the Thule Society is no more. You will serve the purposes of the Covenant for as long as you deem your services useful.”
“But the Kraken…? You may have pieced the mask back together, but it still requires an Atlantean to activate it.” Strucker reminded them.
“Then you should consider yourself lucky that the Sub-Mariner refused us. We have decided to pursue our backup options.” Jefferson said, before bringing Strucker into another room. It was a laboratory. A line of long, glass tubes filled with unconscious Atlanteans stood against the wall. Wires connected to the tanks and banks of machinery powered them and other tech around the room.
“While such drastic measures do not sit comfortably with some of our members, I suggest you start work immediately. After all, the future will need an army to protect it.”