Prologue 3:

Prologue 3:

…

-Kraken City, Xebel, Atlantis

-January 18th, 2002

"Kids, breakfast is ready! Come down!"

"..."

"Namor, you'd better come down here or there won't be any food left!" A loud voice floated up from downstairs, penetrating through thick layers of marine stone but still retaining that feminine edge. It was Adella, the caretaker of the orphanage.

Immediately, Namor swam out of bed, his bare feet barely grazing the floor as he glided toward the full-length mirror nearby. He saw his reflection and thought the same thing he always did… he was an invader in this world, in this body. That was something he still had trouble fully accepting.

"I'm still not used to this…" he muttered to himself as he looked at his reflection—the reflection of a young boy surrounded by water, floating and breathing effortlessly, with wide golden eyes and hair drifting gently around his head, moving softly and slowly, following the current of the water.

Slowly, he pulled himself away from the mirror and went to the bathroom to wash up and change. Namor only had one set of tight, embarrassing underwear.

"This kid has no sense of style," he mumbled. But then again, the previous Namor had been only 10 years old, an orphan with no money—unlike him, who used to steal to get what he needed. Besides, if his memories weren't wrong, he knew this type of clothing was common among all the atlantean orphans.

…

While he was contemplating his future in this world, he ran into someone in the hallway.

"Eh?"

"...?"

He remembered her thanks to his memories.

She was tall, but not too tall. With black hair and black eyes. She had a straight figure, without curves, and her physique could easily be mistaken for a man's. The clothes she wore were also tight-fitting.

She stared at him intently, a coral cleaner in her mouth.

A name popped into his mind. Myralynn, the caretaker's oldest daughter, five years older than Namor. She had finished her mandatory military service but hadn't pursued further education or found a job since, which is why she often helped out at the orphanage. Though, to be honest, she did a terrible job, and her somewhat tomboyish and bad-tempered personality didn't help her case.

He also knew from his memories that there were rumors about her being caught stealing valuables from her superiors during military service, which was probably why she hadn't been kept in the Xebelian militia despite her physical abilities being above the average atlantean. And he knew that these rumors were probably more than just gossip, as he could recognize a potential thief when he saw one.

"Good morning… Myra," he greeted her with a nod, knowing from his memories that she hated being called by her full name. She had literally forced everyone to call her Myra instead of Myralynn.

Myra looked him up and down, her gaze sharp, as if she were trying to decide whether he was about to annoy her or not. After a few seconds of tension, she simply grunted in response, pulling the coral cleaner from her mouth and turning to walk away.

"Don't be late for breakfast," was all she said as she headed toward the stairs.

He nodded, even though she could no longer see him. He decided it wasn't worth trying to force a conversation at that moment.

Now, when I mentioned washing up in the bathroom, you probably pictured a regular bathroom…

Well, it turns out atlantean bathrooms are quite different since, you know, they live underwater.

For starters, living underwater means you're exposed to a constant flow of water, which means your skin and hair are in constant contact with seawater. This serves as a basic cleaning system, naturally washing away dirt and sweat.

Still, everyone had the habit of cleaning themselves, but instead of using soap or shampoo, they used minerals or underwater plants that acted as natural cleansers. Of course, there were other more advanced products and technological devices, but these were mostly used by a small portion of the atlantean population, since they weren't really necessary. There were also many specialized devices or methods for personal care, like devices that could purify or revitalize the skin and hair, as opposed to the traditional liquid products used on the surface.

As for the bathroom itself, well, it's quite different... 

In a closed space, they use technology that produces a strong, clean underwater current, which, of course, is not natural. It could be hot or cold since the technology allows for regulation. This same technology could also create something like freshwater bubbles in a specific area for deeper cleaning.

Oh, and the coral cleaner Myra was using is basically the atlantean version of a toothbrush. But this coral cleaner was made from a living coral or sea sponge bio-structure with cleaning properties, which was modified with highly advanced biotechnology to ensure a design that could be used by atlanteans as a perfect tool for oral hygiene.

…..

…..

As the days passed, Adam began to explore Kraken City, marveling at its advanced technology and ancient architecture, rich in culture and very different from what he knew. He even visited places outside Kraken City but still within Xebel. There were many fascinating things, but the grandeur of the Xebel palace stood out, with its tall towers shining with a pulsating light.

All of Xebel was a mix of the mystical and the mechanical, a testament to a civilization that had thrived underwater for centuries.

Despite the impressive surroundings, Adam couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider. He struggled with his identity, torn between the human life he once knew and the atlantean body he now inhabited.

He found comfort in a daily routine. He attended the local library in Kraken City, learning all he could about the history and technology of Atlantis. The rest of his time was spent exercising or taking basic combat classes, though he sadly discovered he wasn't physically adept or a natural in combat—both crucial in an underwater society. He was even slightly below average, which only made him feel worse.

However, he didn't let this get him down, as he planned to go to live on the surface once he finished his education and mandatory military service.

And on the surface, even if he was below average physically for an atlantean, he was still ten times stronger than a normal human. He had faith that he would achieve great success and money—money was still the most important thing to him. After all, the world revolved around it.

So he began to carefully plan for his future in this world. Focusing first on his studies, the sooner he finished his compulsory education, the better.

During this time, Namor and Myra crossed paths occasionally in the orphanage halls. Their greetings were brief, but Namor made an effort not to bother her or look at her strangely like the other orphans did, who often whispered about her whenever they could. On the contrary, he showed her subtle respect, something Myra seemed to appreciate, though she never acknowledged it verbally.

...

One afternoon, while Namor was practicing the art of moving silently through the orphanage's large common room—something that turned out to be much harder than expected since he was underwater now and not on land—a reflection in the hallway mirror caught his eye. It was Myra, watching him from the half-open door, arms crossed.

"You're pretty good at not making noise," she finally commented, her tone neutral, almost bored.

Namor stopped, realizing he'd been caught.

"It's useful when you want to avoid the caretaker," he responded with a slight smile, testing to see if she would reply with anything other than her usual indifference. After all, the caretaker was her mother.

Myra let out a small, barely noticeable chuckle through her nose.

"You're not the only one who's learned how to do that," she said, walking toward him with confidence. "Though I don't know why a ten-year-old would need those skills."

Namor saw an opportunity to plant a seed of curiosity in her.

"You learn a lot of things out of necessity," he said in a low voice, keeping it casual. "Some of them might surprise you."

Myra looked at him with more interest now.

"Oh... like what?"

Namor shrugged, pretending to be indifferent.

"Nothing that wouldn't be useful for an orphan," he left it at that, letting his silence plant the idea in Myra's mind.

...

As days passed, Myra began seeking out more interactions with Namor, always casual, but Namor could sense her growing curiosity.

One night, while the other kids slept, Myra found Namor in the orphanage director's office, rummaging through a drawer the director usually kept locked.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered urgently, closing the door behind her.

Namor, unfazed, pulled out a small bag of coins from the back of the drawer.

"The caretaker told us there wasn't enough money for desserts this week because the director said there were unexpected expenses," he explained calmly. "That's not true. Sometimes he keeps a little for his own indulgences."

Myra looked at him with a mix of surprise and admiration.

"And how did you know it was there?" she asked, clearly intrigued by the intelligence of this ten-year-old in front of her. She had never liked the director of the orphanage, but since he was her mother's boss, and now hers as well, she'd never spoken up about it.

Namor smirked.

"I'm good at observing. And like I told you before, I've learned a few things."

Myra studied him, weighing what she had just witnessed.

"You could get in serious trouble for doing this," she warned, though her tone lacked any real severity. After all, she wasn't one to give lectures, considering she had done similar things herself.

"Only if I get caught," he replied with a wink.

There was a moment of silence, a kind of mutual assessment, and then Myra, instead of scolding him, stepped a little closer.

"So, tell me… what else have you learned to do?"

Namor understood that it was time to lay his cards on the table.

"Enough to know there are valuable things not found in the kitchen here, but that can be taken just as easily," he responded, hinting at something bigger.

Myra looked at him with a newfound glint in her eye.

"And you're planning to do something, aren't you?" she asked, not knowing why, but something told her this kid was far more intelligent and capable than any other his age—or even herself.

Namor nodded.

"Maybe... something that could benefit both of us. You're already an adult and you know more about the technology in this city. I know how to get in and out without being seen with a little help. Oh, and I'm a pretty good actor too," he smiled, fixing her with a gaze far more intense than any ten-year-old should have.

Myra didn't respond immediately, but the spark of interest in her eyes told Namor everything he needed to know.

"What do you have in mind?" she finally asked, and Namor knew he had just gained a very useful partner. If there was one thing he had learned from Jhon, it was that two are always better than one.

...

The first job they planned together was simple: a grumpy local merchant who frequently left his shop unattended for a few minutes while he went to the market.

While Myra distracted the merchant, Namor slipped into the shop, moving through the shadows like he was born for it. He stole some coins but also took something smaller and less noticeable: a silver amulet that he knew the merchant valued highly.

When they met at the agreed rendezvous point, Namor showed Myra the amulet, explaining that sometimes, things without direct monetary value could be far more valuable.

"So, what do we do with this?" Myra asked, intrigued.

"We sell it to someone who knows its worth," Namor replied. "And make sure the merchant never suspects it was us."

The job was a success. They didn't make much, but it was enough for Myra to start trusting Namor's skills, and vice versa.

...

Over time, their thefts became bolder and their plans more elaborate. Myra began teaching Namor about Atlantis' technology.

In return, Namor showed Myra the skills he had perfected in his other life: how to pick locks, how to manipulate people to get what they wanted, how to think like a thief.

Each small success they shared strengthened their bond. Myra, who at first saw Namor as just a kid, began to respect his intelligence and audacity. Namor, in turn, started to see Myra not just as the grumpy daughter of the caretaker, but as a true partner.

"Why do you do this?" Myra asked one day, as they counted their earnings in a quiet corner of the orphanage.

Namor looked at her, considering his answer.

"Because I don't want to be just another face in the crowd. I want to be remembered, and to do that, you need a lot of money first."

Myra smiled, amused.

"You're right. Life's not going to give us anything. We'll have to take it ourselves."

Namor couldn't agree more. In fact, for him, it was practically a creed.

...

Their relationship developed slowly, but steadily. While Myra remained somewhat tomboyish and Namor still felt like an outsider in his own body, together, they made a good team.

With each new plan, each new theft, their bond grew stronger. And although they both knew their paths might eventually diverge, for now, they had each other's backs, trusting one another.

And little by little, Namor began to feel more at home in this new world.

….

….

With each passing day, he felt more comfortable in his new skin. The initial shock gave way to a sense of purpose as he began to understand the opportunities that came with being an atlantean.

Over time, he found a balance between his past and his present.

And five months after arriving in this world, he finally began to integrate into his new identity as Namor. Although he still felt a strong attachment to his previous identity as Adam, he gradually accepted that he was now Namor, at least while he was in Atlantis.

But since he planned to live on the surface in the future, he knew he would need identification as a citizen of some country.

Naturally, he planned to use his identity as Adam again since he couldn't just go by Namor. So, he had already decided that his name on the surface would be Adam Thomas Amen, keeping something from his past—his name, the only thing he had left.

His plan was simple. He would get a fake ID in some country on the surface, then, after finishing his education and mandatory military service, he would leave Xebel as an adult atlantean.

Of course, he could leave now, but the state wouldn't allow it. If he disappeared, the state would search for him and report him missing, preventing him from returning to Xebel or any other city-state in Atlantis. But if he left as an adult, there would be no problem unless he committed a crime.

He also spent a lot of time studying the geography of both Atlantis and the surface world, so he would know how to navigate once he left Xebel and headed to some country on the surface.

During this time, he managed to skip ahead to his final school year instead of entering his penultimate year. He requested to take exams to advance a year and passed all of them with excellent grades, so his request was approved.

Thanks to his intellect, superior to other ten-year-old atlanteans—though only because he was mentally fifteen—he advanced a year in his compulsory education at the public school in Kraken City, Xebel. Everyone in the orphanage was surprised by this, well, everybody except Myra who knew better than anyone how smart and capable he was.

Besides studying, training and well… stealing, he became interested in learning atlantean magic since a significant part of the atlantean population could use magic if they set their minds to it.

Naturally, the little he managed to learn about atlantean magic were some common books that only served to initiate one into magic and determine if they had the ability to sense and use it. The first step was to feel magic and then see if one had the talent to use it. If successful, they could then try to enter the Conservatory of Sorcery in Poseidonis to learn how to use atlantean magic.

It was practically impossible to obtain more advanced knowledge about atlantean magic since this knowledge was restricted to students at the Conservatory of Sorcery in Poseidonis.

However, none of this was something he had to worry about since he, unfortunately, did not have the ability to sense magic. No matter how much he tried to follow the book's instructions, he never managed to pass the first and most essential step—feeling it.

So, it seemed he wouldn't be a magic user.

It was frustrating. Magic was the ultimate dream for any normal person, so knowing he couldn't use it was painful. But he accepted it and focused on his studies and physical training…. and naturally kept on stealing alongside Myra.