Island Atlantia

[tlgRen]

Atlantia 2 @Gambit
Gripping onto his trident with all of his strength, Poseidon listened as Gambit lectured him, unable to do anything else at the time. He appreciated the long winded speech the Vampirate made, as it afforded him the chance to rest a little. He stared down the man before him as his haki surged, forming what was likely his finishing move. While deep in his heart he knew he was beaten, his pride would not allow him to simply fall. He would go down swinging regardless of how foolish it made him seem. He gives his trident a squeeze, and supports his body on his own as he raises it to about shoulder level. A moment before being stuck with the vampirate's hammer, he throws his trident. There isn't much force to it, but while the vampirate is focusing his haki for offense, it leaves a scratch on his cheek as the hammer slams Poseidon's battered body into the ground, leaving little, if anything, remaining of him.

 

[Gambit]

The battlefield trembled as his attack reached its zenith, both hammers now fully infused with advanced Armament Haki and cloaked in the roar of his Conqueror’s Will. Like twin suns forged from heat and hatred, they radiated a destructive aura so suffocating that even the sky recoiled in dread.

As he descended with devastating force, Gambit saw it—that flicker of defiance in Poseidon's battered form. A scratch of pride. A spark of resistance.

The trident left the Sea King's grasp, sailing weakly through the air—but true to the spirit of a king. It grazed Gambit's cheek, a shallow cut blossoming into a single streak of crimson. His eyes flared, not in anger, but in solemn admiration.

"Tch... a scar, huh?" he muttered, just as the twin hammers slammed down.

A blinding explosion engulfed the arena, shockwaves tearing through stone and flame alike. The earth screamed, swallowing the impact in a crater of smoke and shadow.

As the dust settled, Gambit stood tall, wings folded like a monarch at rest. He reached up and wiped the blood from his cheek, then glanced toward the haze where Poseidon's silhouette lingered—its condition uncertain but worthy of silence.

He did not offer another quip. No gloat. No mockery.

Just a whisper, only the wind could hear:

"Die standing... if you must. I’ll honour that."

"But should you survive that, honour your son, Prince Namor, and all of Atlantia shall be under my protection."

He turned away, his cape flicking embers in his wake, leaving the battlefield to the silence of gods and monsters.

 

[tlgRen]

Atlantia 3 @Gambit
Poseidon's pride would not let him stop fighting while he was still drawing breath. Sure, accepting defeat and relenting to Gambit's control of Atlantia had a lot of merit to it, but he could not live with that decision and he was willing to die for this one. With one final smirk for his single glancing blow, his life faded away, he remained standing as he did. Refusing to stay down even in death. His defiance wasn't even a slight on Namor, it was a testament to his own will. He truly believed that while he lived he was the only one fit to rule Atlantia. Gambit had won the duel against the stubborn ruler of Poseidon, and he was now able to do with it whatever he wished.

 

[Gambit]

@tlgRen @Hiei​

The dust had not yet settled over the broken battlefield of Atlantia when Gambit, the Prince of All Pirates, stood over the body of the fallen King. Poseidon's frame, battered and broken, refused to kneel even in death—a monument to an unyielding will. The sea breeze howled across the ruins of the grand arena, carrying with it the heavy scent of smoke, blood, and the weight of a new era.

Gambit hovered above the shattered ground, his wings casting a long, ominous shadow over Poseidon's corpse. His crimson eyes, fierce and solemn, gazed down at the defiant King with something rare: respect. With a low, almost reverent chuckle, he swept his silver mane behind him, the final remnants of his vampiric aura crackling off his skin like dying stars.

"You stood tall, old King," Gambit muttered, the words like a private eulogy carried away by the wind. "But the throne of Atlantia no longer answers to your pride."

He slowly descended, planting his clima-hammer into the broken earth. His black-and-red cape billowed behind him like a war banner. Before the battered city, the citizens, and the remnants of Poseidon's court, Gambit raised his voice, thundering like the storms he commanded:

"Hear me, people of Atlantia! By blood, by strength, by will — I, Landayan Morrow, the 14th Royal Blacksmith and Prince of All Pirates, claim victory this day!"

"But I am no tyrant!" he roared. "Atlantia belongs to its own! As of this moment, by my decree, NAMOR shall ascend as your new King — a sovereign born of your blood and battle-tested in the fires of loyalty!"

A collective gasp and murmur rippled through the battered forces of Atlantia. Namor, fierce and noble, stepped forward from among the Silver Vampirates, his head held high, his fists clenched at his sides.

Gambit turned to him, offering a rare smile, fierce and brotherly.

"Atlantia needs a King who understands it. Lead them, Namor. Rule them better than the gods did."

The silver-haired Prince beat his massive black wings once, rising into the blood-red skies, his figure framed by the storm clouds overhead.

Thus, with Poseidon's fall and Namor's coronation, the tides of destiny shifted.

The old world of Atlantia was no more.

A new era, baptised in blood and sealed by will, was born under the flag of the Silver Vampirates.

The Atlantia Saga had come to an end.
But the reign of the Vampirates... had only just begun.
>>>​