Surface #75

Placing my foot atop the crowned head of an oversized jellyfish, I retrieved my sword from its defeated form and sent the creature floating into the murky depths below. "Their king is down, and most of their forces have met their end," I declared, leaning casually on the hilt of my Giantslayer blade.

"Looks like that's a wrap for this little underwater skirmish," I remarked, pivoting to face Aquaman and the squad of Atlantean royal guards at his side.

"Indeed, and we owe it all to your light magic for securing such a victory with minimal losses," Aquaman acknowledged with a weary grin. "My pure-blooded generals will probably be too embarrassed to even show their faces after doubting you," he added with a rueful chuckle.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't blame 'em for doubting a surface dweller in an underwater brawl. We're not exactly renowned for our aquatic warfare skills," I quipped, slipping my sword into the shadows of my storage.

"But hey, war's over, and I've done my part. Time for me to resurface," I announced, casting a glance upwards to the darkened expanse above, hinting at the world beyond the waves. 

Aquaman arched an eyebrow inquisitively. "Heading out already?" he questioned. "We've got a banquet planned to honor the fallen and celebrate our victory... I'm sure many of my people would be eager to meet you," he added, the invitation hanging in the air.

I shot Aquaman a playful grin. "So, any stunning Atlantean beauties in the mix?" I teased, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. 

Aquaman chuckled heartily. "Oh, I'd say there's quite a few admirers eager to meet our esteemed war hero," he replied with a wide grin. "Ladies tend to swoon for a man with a few heroic tales to tell," he added, clapping me firmly on the shoulder.

His slap, though well-intentioned, shattered my guardian veil barrier like glass and nearly popped my shoulder out of its socket. Sure, the Atlantean serum had beefed up my physique, but Aquaman still had the upper hand in the strength department. 

I rolled my eyes, rubbing my sore shoulder. "Can't say that I'm not tempted," I muttered wryly. "But duty calls, and I've got plenty of unfinished business topside," I explained, waving off the idea of a romantic rendezvous with a chuckle.

Aquaman sighed good-naturedly, shaking his head. "Stubborn as ever, Micah," he remarked, closing his eyes momentarily. With a subtle gesture, a resounding call echoed through the depths, summoning an oversized dolphin from the shadows.

"This little guy will escort you back home safely. Take care, and drop by whenever you get the chance," Aquaman offered, extending his hand toward me. 

I grinned, shaking his hand firmly. "You know the drill, Arthur. If you ever need a hand, just give me a shout. But remember, my heroics come with a price tag," I quipped, shooting him a wink.

"Until next time, then," I concluded, releasing his hand and grasping the dolphin's dorsal fin, ready to ride the currents back to the surface.

...

"Good old lady liberty," I muttered, savoring the taste of fresh surface air as I swam toward the shore. "Thanks for the ride, buddy. Feel free to head back now," I added, turning to give the oversized dolphin a grateful pat on its sleek, glistening flank. With a joyful squeal, it dove beneath the waves, disappearing into the vast expanse of the ocean.

Turning my gaze back to the land, I propelled myself through the water until my feet finally met the sandy shore. "Home sweet home..." I sighed contentedly, relishing the feeling of solid ground beneath my feet. Stretching out lazily, I paused as I noticed the curious stares of a few beachgoers nearby.

Glancing down at myself, I quickly realized why I was attracting attention. It was winter, after all, and here I was, standing on the beach in nothing but a pair of pants, dripping with cold ocean water. It must have been quite the sight.

But it wasn't just my attire that caught people's eyes. My body had undergone some serious changes during my underwater adventures. 

The Atlantean serum had not only granted me the ability to breathe underwater and withstand the ocean's crushing pressure but had also sculpted my muscles into a form that could make bodybuilders green with envy.

I wasn't overly bulky, nor was I too lean—just the perfect balance of strength and aesthetics. Furthermore, after spending so much time fighting underwater, I've grown a considerably scruffy beard that, coupled with my long hair, would attract anyone's attention. 

But that's enough about the changes in my looks. After spending so much time submerged in the depths, navigating the ocean's currents, and straining my muscles under the pressure at the bottom of the sea, my strength and agility had reached new heights. 

Walking on land felt like a breeze compared to the weight of the water pressing down on me.

"Oh well... my gains were definitely not small this time around...." With a shrug and a smirk, I brushed off the stares and continued my leisurely stroll along the beach, feeling more at home in my own skin than ever before.

"Better give Azrael a call, see what's happened while I was away..." 

...

Strolling through the park in his civilian attire, Azrael couldn't help but halt in his tracks at the bizarre scene unfolding before him. There, seated on a bench ahead, was a pale young man with disheveled hair and a scruffy beard, engaged in what appeared to be a heated argument with an oversized rat perched beside him.

"What the hell are you talking about, rat?" the young man snapped, his tone laced with irritation. "Ted's place isn't some random alley trash can! It's even better than my apartment!" he continued, jabbing an accusing finger in the rat's direction, eliciting a series of indignant squeaks from the rodent.

"In the first place, I haven't been goofing off these past months! I've been fighting a bloody war while you were busy chowing down on cheese in Ted's pad!" the young man exclaimed, as if deciphering the rat's squeaks. "So what if you were bored for a couple of months?" he added defiantly.

In response, the rat emitted an angry squeal and lunged at the young man's outstretched finger. "Go ahead and bite all you want, rat! Not even an artillery rocket could scratch me now!" the young man boasted, though his bravado was short-lived. 

As the rat's teeth sank deeper, his face contorted, turning blue, and he began flailing his arms in a panicked frenzy.

"Yeow! Alright, alright, you win. Just let go before you chomp my finger off, you little bastard!" the young man exclaimed, causing the rat to finally release its grip, emitting a satisfied chitter.

Having seen enough of the peculiar sight, Azrael cleared his throat to grab the young man's attention. "Is that you, Micah??" he called out as he approached the bench.

Micah, the young man, turned around, his face lighting up in a grin. "Oh? It's only been a few months, Paul. Don't tell me you've already forgotten this charming mug of mine?" he quipped with a chuckle.

Azrael shook his head in amusement. "I'm not ungrateful enough to forget a face that saved me from my own demons," he remarked. "Though you've changed quite a bit... if it weren't for your furry friend here, I wouldn't have recognized you," he added, gesturing toward Rattigan.

Micah shrugged casually. "Two months of underwater warfare can do that, mate. I reckon it's time for a trim," he mused, scratching his head. "Anyway, how'd things go on your end? Sorted out those issues I left you with...?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with genuine interest.

Azrael nodded, his expression confirming his success. "Took a bit of elbow grease, but everything's shipshape," he replied. "Livewire's out and about, buzzing with her new talk show. I've made sure she's toeing the line as per your instructions, and her star power's skyrocketing faster than a SpaceX launch," he explained with a grin.

Micah's smile stretched wider at the news. "You've done well. Now, it's just a matter of keeping an eye on her and finding more avenues for her to flaunt her powers and fame. Keep her on the straight and narrow," he said, nodding in satisfaction. "What about Arnold Wesker and my startup?" 

Micah leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he listened to Azrael's updates. "So, Albert Wesker's on board, huh?" he mused, nodding in approval. "Well, as long as he's eager to turn his life around, it's a risk worth taking."

Azrael raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his expression. "Offering him a boatload of cash might have been a tad reckless, but hey, it's your call," he remarked, chuckling softly.

Micah waved off the concern with a nonchalant shrug. "Time will tell if it pays off," he replied, his tone betraying his confidence. "Now, onto the startup. How's the paperwork coming along?"

Azrael's gaze shifted to a nearby stack of documents. "All sorted and ready for your signature," he confirmed. "But remember, getting the manufacturing and sales licenses won't be a walk in the park. You'll need to prove the safety and efficacy of your products."

Micah nodded thoughtfully. "Got it. Leave that part to me," he said, rising from his seat. Rattigan, his trusty companion, perched on his shoulder, adding an air of eccentricity to the scene.

"I'll take some time off, tie up loose ends, and then we'll kick things into gear," Micah declared with a grin, his mind already racing with plans. "Thanks for all your hard work, Paul. I owe you one."

With a wave, Micah bid Azrael farewell and strolled out of the room, a man with a mission and a startup on the horizon.