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Chapter 435: The Death of Arthur
Another disaster ended. To be honest, humanity was getting a little used to it.
Humans are, by nature, an incredibly adaptive species.
After facing the Chitauri, Atlanteans, and Kryptonians in succession, humanity was becoming increasingly composed.
Or perhaps, numb.
After Tony took control of the Kryptonian Mothership, he detonated the devices in the brains of the two hundred thousand criminals who had arrived with them, killing them all in an instant.
During this time, the world's main focus remained the hunting of Atlanteans.
The world's oceans had become the Transformers' hunting grounds. Transformers of all models, like hunters with shotguns, roamed the vast seas, carrying out a bloody slaughter.
Many Transformers were killed by their prey in battle, but some grew stronger with each fight, their innate talents gradually being unearthed.
They distinguished themselves in the bloody battles.
As for the Atlanteans they killed? No one paid them any mind, and no one cared whether the dead were warriors or civilians, able-bodied men or the old, weak, women, and children.
No one cared. Killing was all that mattered.
The human warships and submarines patrolling the oceans would occasionally detect the Transformers' activity, only to silently depart or observe their feast of slaughter from a safe distance.
The extermination of the Atlanteans had silently become a consensus for all.
A true genocide—this was what the Transformers were carrying out.
Kill. They just killed their way through, slaughtering any of the undersea people they saw.
No prisoners needed, no slaves needed, only corpses.
The hatred between the two sides had grown far too deep.
Twenty million people were dead or missing—and everyone understood that in the modern era of advanced information, ninety percent of those who went missing during a major disaster were as good as dead.
How many friends and relatives did those twenty million people have? How much hatred was brewing?
All of human society watched with cold indifference as the bodies were dragged from the ocean onto the shores like livestock, only to be bought by various institutions for all kinds of biochemical experiments.
Every single corpse had research value.
The media at large ignored the frenzied slaughter of the Atlanteans. Occasionally, a news outlet would speak out in support, but the personnel involved would soon mysteriously disappear.
The world's oceans had become the Transformers' hunting grounds, where all manner of massacres were being cheerfully staged.
Piranacon, leading five hundred ocean warriors, roamed the underwater realm.
Captain Divebomb coordinated with the other six bots, searching for traces of Atlanteans in the underwater realm. Find one, kill one.
"Found them. Life signs of the undersea people detected thirty nautical miles ahead," one of the bots suddenly reported.
Piranacon's massive body immediately charged in that direction. Behind him, five hundred warriors formed a long column like a dragon, radiating an icy Killing Intent.
BOOM!
A blast from a massive cannon struck an undersea rock formation, blowing open a huge gap. The fragmented rock, slowed by the water's resistance, still shot out in all directions with astonishing force.
"According to the instrument readings, over a hundred Atlantean remnants are hiding inside." Piranacon let out an excited roar, shouting to the warriors under his command, "Kill them!"
The Transformer squad remained silent, their red optics glowing eerily in the pitch-black depths. One by one, they drew their weapons and coldly surrounded the hiding place.
Intense energy was gathering, and a cold Killing Intent was spreading. The faint sounds of crying that could be heard did not cause the slightest emotional fluctuation in these bots.
A figure shot out from the gap like a sharp sword, with long golden hair, a powerful build, and eyes filled with bloodshot veins.
"No, you can't do this!!! Orm has already paid the price with his life! The other Atlanteans are innocent!!!"
Aquaman Arthur was like a madman, roaring hysterically, a trace of despair in his eyes.
He had led his people from place to place, struggling to survive, watching helplessly as they were mercilessly slaughtered one by one. The warriors who screamed and charged into battle, the wailing women and children...
These were his people!
He watched his people die in droves, yet he was powerless to do anything.
It was like a nightmare.
Overnight, the magnificent and powerful Atlantis had met its death.
Destruction, corpses, and the flames of war consumed everything.
Like a stray dog, he fled with his people, but they were always caught. He would then have to sacrifice a group of them to buy more time for the others.
Their numbers dwindled, and their journey as fugitives grew more difficult.
Everyone knew they were only delaying their deaths.
Arthur had already lost too many people he knew. Mera, Garth...
Originally, Arthur had held out hope that perhaps some superhero would step forward to stop this act of extinction.
But there was no one. No one stepped forward. It was as if everyone had become blind and deaf.
If that guy Clark were here, he would definitely stop this... But for some reason, Clark hadn't shown up.
Arthur stared numbly at the several hundred steel soldiers surrounding him, then turned with a bitter smile to look at the softly weeping women and children.
All the men were already dead.
Now, it was his turn. The new... king.
"Spare them! They're all innocent! Haven't you killed enough?!" Arthur roared, his eyes red, like a beast.
The surrounding bots watched him coldly, as if looking at a clown.
Piranacon's thirty-six-meter-tall body swam over like a giant. "When war breaks out, no one is innocent," he said with indifference. "Not the elderly who cannot lift a weapon, nor the infants in their swaddling clothes."
"At the very least, the elderly can make insignificant contributions; every piece of clothing they transport contributes to the war effort. The infants in their swaddling clothes will grow up to inherit the hatred and one day take up arms themselves."
The six components that made up Piranacon's body watched indifferently as Arthur's battered form neared the point of collapse.
"Arthur, the order we received is to exterminate all Atlanteans. Not a single one is to be left alive. This is not just our own will, but a command from the Creator."
"Tony wants to completely annihilate your species. He said that no one is obligated to pay for your stupidity. And even if someone were, he would kill them too."
Piranacon raised his butcher's blade, aimed it at Aquaman Arthur, his face twisted with despair, and gave the order: "Kill them."
Five hundred Transformers swarmed forward. The slaughter began. Shrill screams and pleas were swiftly drowned out by death.
Arthur, covered in wounds, became a complete beast, roaring and smashing with his fists. When his fists were crushed, he used his teeth. When his teeth were shattered, he used his head to ram them.
When his head was blasted apart, only his bloodshot eyes remained, staring fixedly through the blood-tainted seawater.
From this point on, Atlantis was extinct.
(end of chapter)
Another disaster ended. To be honest, humanity was getting a little used to it.
Humans are, by nature, an incredibly adaptive species.
After facing the Chitauri, Atlanteans, and Kryptonians in succession, humanity was becoming increasingly composed.
Or perhaps, numb.
After Tony took control of the Kryptonian Mothership, he detonated the devices in the brains of the two hundred thousand criminals who had arrived with them, killing them all in an instant.
During this time, the world's main focus remained the hunting of Atlanteans.
The world's oceans had become the Transformers' hunting grounds. Transformers of all models, like hunters with shotguns, roamed the vast seas, carrying out a bloody slaughter.
Many Transformers were killed by their prey in battle, but some grew stronger with each fight, their innate talents gradually being unearthed.
They distinguished themselves in the bloody battles.
As for the Atlanteans they killed? No one paid them any mind, and no one cared whether the dead were warriors or civilians, able-bodied men or the old, weak, women, and children.
No one cared. Killing was all that mattered.
The human warships and submarines patrolling the oceans would occasionally detect the Transformers' activity, only to silently depart or observe their feast of slaughter from a safe distance.
The extermination of the Atlanteans had silently become a consensus for all.
A true genocide—this was what the Transformers were carrying out.
Kill. They just killed their way through, slaughtering any of the undersea people they saw.
No prisoners needed, no slaves needed, only corpses.
The hatred between the two sides had grown far too deep.
Twenty million people were dead or missing—and everyone understood that in the modern era of advanced information, ninety percent of those who went missing during a major disaster were as good as dead.
How many friends and relatives did those twenty million people have? How much hatred was brewing?
All of human society watched with cold indifference as the bodies were dragged from the ocean onto the shores like livestock, only to be bought by various institutions for all kinds of biochemical experiments.
Every single corpse had research value.
The media at large ignored the frenzied slaughter of the Atlanteans. Occasionally, a news outlet would speak out in support, but the personnel involved would soon mysteriously disappear.
The world's oceans had become the Transformers' hunting grounds, where all manner of massacres were being cheerfully staged.
Piranacon, leading five hundred ocean warriors, roamed the underwater realm.
Captain Divebomb coordinated with the other six bots, searching for traces of Atlanteans in the underwater realm. Find one, kill one.
"Found them. Life signs of the undersea people detected thirty nautical miles ahead," one of the bots suddenly reported.
Piranacon's massive body immediately charged in that direction. Behind him, five hundred warriors formed a long column like a dragon, radiating an icy Killing Intent.
BOOM!
A blast from a massive cannon struck an undersea rock formation, blowing open a huge gap. The fragmented rock, slowed by the water's resistance, still shot out in all directions with astonishing force.
"According to the instrument readings, over a hundred Atlantean remnants are hiding inside." Piranacon let out an excited roar, shouting to the warriors under his command, "Kill them!"
The Transformer squad remained silent, their red optics glowing eerily in the pitch-black depths. One by one, they drew their weapons and coldly surrounded the hiding place.
Intense energy was gathering, and a cold Killing Intent was spreading. The faint sounds of crying that could be heard did not cause the slightest emotional fluctuation in these bots.
A figure shot out from the gap like a sharp sword, with long golden hair, a powerful build, and eyes filled with bloodshot veins.
"No, you can't do this!!! Orm has already paid the price with his life! The other Atlanteans are innocent!!!"
Aquaman Arthur was like a madman, roaring hysterically, a trace of despair in his eyes.
He had led his people from place to place, struggling to survive, watching helplessly as they were mercilessly slaughtered one by one. The warriors who screamed and charged into battle, the wailing women and children...
These were his people!
He watched his people die in droves, yet he was powerless to do anything.
It was like a nightmare.
Overnight, the magnificent and powerful Atlantis had met its death.
Destruction, corpses, and the flames of war consumed everything.
Like a stray dog, he fled with his people, but they were always caught. He would then have to sacrifice a group of them to buy more time for the others.
Their numbers dwindled, and their journey as fugitives grew more difficult.
Everyone knew they were only delaying their deaths.
Arthur had already lost too many people he knew. Mera, Garth...
Originally, Arthur had held out hope that perhaps some superhero would step forward to stop this act of extinction.
But there was no one. No one stepped forward. It was as if everyone had become blind and deaf.
If that guy Clark were here, he would definitely stop this... But for some reason, Clark hadn't shown up.
Arthur stared numbly at the several hundred steel soldiers surrounding him, then turned with a bitter smile to look at the softly weeping women and children.
All the men were already dead.
Now, it was his turn. The new... king.
"Spare them! They're all innocent! Haven't you killed enough?!" Arthur roared, his eyes red, like a beast.
The surrounding bots watched him coldly, as if looking at a clown.
Piranacon's thirty-six-meter-tall body swam over like a giant. "When war breaks out, no one is innocent," he said with indifference. "Not the elderly who cannot lift a weapon, nor the infants in their swaddling clothes."
"At the very least, the elderly can make insignificant contributions; every piece of clothing they transport contributes to the war effort. The infants in their swaddling clothes will grow up to inherit the hatred and one day take up arms themselves."
The six components that made up Piranacon's body watched indifferently as Arthur's battered form neared the point of collapse.
"Arthur, the order we received is to exterminate all Atlanteans. Not a single one is to be left alive. This is not just our own will, but a command from the Creator."
"Tony wants to completely annihilate your species. He said that no one is obligated to pay for your stupidity. And even if someone were, he would kill them too."
Piranacon raised his butcher's blade, aimed it at Aquaman Arthur, his face twisted with despair, and gave the order: "Kill them."
Five hundred Transformers swarmed forward. The slaughter began. Shrill screams and pleas were swiftly drowned out by death.
Arthur, covered in wounds, became a complete beast, roaring and smashing with his fists. When his fists were crushed, he used his teeth. When his teeth were shattered, he used his head to ram them.
When his head was blasted apart, only his bloodshot eyes remained, staring fixedly through the blood-tainted seawater.
From this point on, Atlantis was extinct.
(end of chapter)
