The great mother-of-pearl screen, powered by Atlantean technology intercepting surface signals, had just broadcast the unthinkable: their King, Arthur Curry, obliterated by an explosion. Then the image cut out, leaving the throne room in a deathly silence.
The crowd of Atlantean nobles and warriors, gathered to witness the historic event, was left speechless for a long moment. Then, an anxious murmur rose, quickly transforming into a rumble of anger.
On the dais, Prince Orm, his face twisted with icy fury, slammed his gauntleted fist on the armrest of his seat, making the coral tremble.
"They did it!" he thundered, his voice echoing through the vast hall. "They dared! Our king went in peace, as a pacifist, to talk reason to them. And this is how the surface rats thank him! With betrayal and murder!"
He stood, pointing an accusatory finger at the now-black screen.
"Look! This is their true nature! They only understand force! They only deserve war!"
Beside him, Corum Rath, the head of the armies, tried to urge caution. His voice was deep and measured, a total contrast to Orm's fury.
"Prince Orm, we must wait. We do not yet know for certain if the King is... if he has fallen. The images are chaotic."
But Orm was no longer listening. Rage and long-contained ambition overflowed. He turned to Corum, his gaze burning.
"Wait? Wait for them to send their bombs here? Wait for them to come and plunder our cities as they plunder our oceans? No, Corum! The time for waiting is over. The time for an answer is now!"
He drew himself up, displaying an authority he had never dared show so openly while Arthur lived.
"My brother has fallen. Let his sacrifice not be in vain. From this moment forth, I am no longer merely Prince Orm."
He raised his fist, and his personal trident, hitherto discreet, seemed to absorb all the light in the room.
"I am the OCEAN MASTER!" he screamed, and his voice, amplified by his fury or some hidden technology, rolled like thunder through the city of Atlantis. "And I will show them what the true power of the oceans means!"
The crowd, electrified by anger and fear, responded with a deafening roar. Lances clashed, warriors beat their chests. Mourning was instantly transforming into a thirst for vengeance.
Corum Rath, seeing the human tide and the mad determination in Orm's eyes, bowed his head in resigned assent. The Atlantean war machine, dormant for centuries, had just awoken. And it had a new master, thirsty for conquest and blood.
On the surface, in a state-of-the-art medical room, human doctors bustled around Aquaman's unconscious body, powerless. Their scalpels couldn't even pierce his skin. The war The Light had wished to trigger was here. And it would be far more terrible than they had imagined.