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SPLASH—
Above the churning Atlantic surface, the water suddenly began to roil and bubble as if brought to a boil. A circular area roughly five hundred meters in diameter appeared to rise—lifting like a massive dome.
Then.
BOOM!
A colossal deep-sea leviathan—dead as dead could be—burst through the surface. It hung suspended in the air for a heartbeat before crashing back down with a thunderous impact.
SPLAT.
The creature struck the water with enough force to simulate hitting concrete. In an instant, the surrounding sea turned crimson with blood.
Within seconds, the marine predators that had been circling—now deprived of their original target—locked onto this massive, delicious-smelling carcass.
SHING!
Hawk hovered above the ocean surface, watching countless sea creatures tear into the giant corpse below. With a thought, the wings of his Surplice detached—transforming into streaks of black light that wove through the leviathan's body in rapid succession.
In an instant!
The creature was carved into perfectly sectioned pieces.
The next second, Hawk ignored the feeding frenzy below—predators now turning on each other in their competition for meat—and turned his gaze toward the Atlantic's depths.
Namor had escaped.
Just like last time. He'd summoned another innocent sea creature to take the hit, and in that split second of distraction, he'd slipped into an underwater fissure and vanished.
Three-on-one ambush.
Strucker was dead.
Shuri had died horribly.
Namor had fled.
But—
Unlike last time, when Namor had escaped and Hawk had no way to locate his lair—and had been in a hurry to return to New York anyway—
This time?
"Running?"
"You can run, but you can't hide."
"I know exactly where you live."
"When I say I'll wipe out your bloodline—I mean every last one of you."
Hawk's golden pupils flickered. With a flash of white light, the trident he'd suppressed within his Cosmo reappeared in his grip.
The instant it materialized, the weapon began trembling violently—desperately trying to escape his grasp and return to its true master.
But Hawk had no intention of letting that happen.
He gripped the trident horizontally with both hands. As his Cosmo erupted, he began forcing the weapon to bend.
The shaft curved under the pressure.
HUMMMMM!
WHOOOOSH!
As the trident bent, its vibrations intensified dramatically. The oceanic power flowing through it surged—attempting to contest the Cosmo radiating from Hawk's palms.
In an instant.
Scalding steam erupted from where Hawk's hands gripped the weapon.
"Is Hawk trying to snap that thing in half?"
Back at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s central command hub in New York, Sharon watched the main screen—Hawk wrestling with the resisting trident—with a mixture of curiosity and mild regret.
After all—
"That trident should be a divine artifact, right? Like Thor's hammer?"
"The Trident of the Seas."
Gwen nodded beside her.
"Legend says it was Poseidon's weapon."
Sharon's eyebrow rose.
"Poseidon? Zeus? Greek mythology?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Damn."
Sharon blinked at Gwen's confirmation. "So we don't just have Odin running around—Zeus and the Greek pantheon are real too?"
Gwen shook her head.
"Hawk says Zeus definitely exists somewhere in the universe, but probably not on Earth."
Sharon's gaze drifted back to the trident on the main screen.
"Then what about that thing?"
"Who knows? Maybe Poseidon visited Earth at some point—just like Odin did back in the day."
Gwen said this absently, her attention drifting upward toward the second floor—toward the rest area where Wanda and the others had been taken.
After Wanda and Pietro had arrived, Sharon had arranged for them to be escorted to one of the upstairs lounges.
Mainly because Billy and Tommy were hungry and needed to be fed.
Just moments ago, after Wanda had finished feeding the twins, she'd noticed the dimness of the room. Rising from her seat, she'd pulled the curtains open.
Standing on the first floor, Gwen's eyes met Wanda's through the window above.
Their gazes collided across the distance.
Gwen offered a small smile.
Wanda blinked—then returned it.
Gwen looked away.
Taking the cue, Wanda turned from the window.
Pietro was currently helping Billy—sprawled on the couch—with a diaper change.
The diapers had been a rush order, fetched by a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative.
Wanda walked over and took over from her brother.
Pietro scooped up Tommy, cradling him while he waited his turn.
"Pretty sure we're being held here."
Wanda glanced up at her brother.
"Probably until he gets back."
Pietro considered this, then nodded.
...
Above the Atlantic!
Hawk continued his battle of wills with the resisting trident.
He'd tried to break it once before.
He'd failed.
This time, he was certain he could snap it if he wanted to—but he chose not to.
After all, he wasn't Hela.
This weapon, once tamed, could be passed down to his future son with Gwen.
What's that? This belongs to Poseidon?
Sorry.
It's Hawk's war trophy now.
So—
He'd use it however he damn well pleased.
But as a divine artifact, the trident wouldn't submit willingly. Which meant it needed to be broken in.
Besides, if he wanted to find Namor's lair, he'd need this weapon's guidance.
Same principle as before.
When I say I'll wipe out your bloodline—I mean every last one.
After all, he was a Demon King.
And not just any Demon King—one whose soul hailed from the East. Compared to his killing intent, the most terrifying devils of Western mythology might as well be saints.
Soon.
Under Hawk's relentless pressure, the trident had been bent to its absolute limit.
Hawk stared at the weapon in his hands.
"Submit—or die."
HUMMMMM!
Almost the instant his words fell, the trident made its choice. At the tip of the central prong, a point of deep azure light flickered into existence.
The light shot into his Cosmo with a soft whoosh.
The next moment, an entire water world—a planet of endless cerulean seas—materialized within Hawk's inner universe. Simultaneously, the trident in his hands no longer felt like a weapon. It felt like an extension of his own body.
Hawk's eyebrow arched. His left hand released its grip. His right hand spun the trident—then drove its tip toward the ocean surface below.
"RISE!"
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A column of water—easily a hundred meters in diameter—erupted from the sea, shooting skyward like a pillar connecting earth to the sky.
Sharon's jaw dropped.
"What the—"
"Must be one of the trident's abilities. Hawk's tamed it."
"..." Gwen watched the main screen—Hawk standing above the ocean, casually twirling the trident with one hand, summoning water dragon after water dragon as if playing with a new toy. She could sense his satisfaction even from here, and a smile of genuine happiness for him crossed her face.
Sharon stared at Hawk treating the Atlantic like his personal playground.
"Is that thing really that powerful? That fish-guy from before didn't seem anywhere near this strong."
She was right.
If Namor's mastery of the trident could be called entry-level—
Hawk was already an expert.
Was it just an illusion?
Sharon wondered.
Unfortunately—
It wasn't.
Because Namor had never truly possessed this weapon.
The trident's core—surrendered to Hawk as proof of its submission—was all the evidence needed.
Everyone knew Thor's hammer had been forged from a dying star's core, carrying the weight of an entire celestial body.
The trident contained the core of an entire water world.
This weapon truly had belonged to Poseidon of Greek mythology. As for why it had followed Namor? The answer was simple.
Namor was a descendant of Atlantis.
And Atlantis had once worshipped Poseidon as their patron deity.
But—
Namor had only ever been permitted to use the trident. He had never truly owned it.
Now?
Hawk did.
Above the Atlantic, Hawk stood suspended in the air—trident in hand, several water dragons coiling around him.
The Black Phoenix Surplice disassembled itself, returning to the Underworld.
His gaze locked onto the coordinates the trident had just transmitted—the location of Namor's lair.
The next second.
Hawk glanced up at the S.H.I.E.L.D. satellite watching from above. Then, without hesitation, he dove into the ocean—trident first.
This time, with the weapon's aid, Hawk felt himself merge with the surrounding water. He rocketed toward Namor's stronghold at incredible speed.
"Uh..."
Sharon blinked, watching Hawk—who had glanced at the satellite one second and vanished beneath the waves the next, signal lost entirely. She turned to Gwen.
"He's not coming back?"
Gwen recalled the killing intent still burning in Hawk's eyes when he'd looked at the satellite.
"Probably not done yet."
She genuinely didn't understand why people kept provoking Hawk.
He was so gentle, really.
That was Gwen's honest assessment.
And it was true. When no one was bothering him, Hawk stayed quietly in New York, never venturing anywhere.
Even S.H.I.E.L.D.—despite wanting Hawk to join the Avengers—had backed off. Sharon had told her as much.
Director Hill and Commander Hand had weighed the options carefully.
Their unanimous conclusion: Hawk staying peacefully in New York, enjoying a quiet life, was far more cost-effective than recruiting him to the Avengers.
And yet—
All Hawk wanted was peace and quiet. But people kept coming to pick fights.
Getting your entire bloodline wiped out? You deserve it.
Gwen thought of Namor—who had sided with Strucker to attack Hawk—and felt zero sympathy.
I'm supposed to feel sorry for him?
Who's going to feel sorry for me?
Gwen thought this to herself, then glanced back up toward the second-floor lounge.
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~# 70 Advanced Chapters Available on my Patreon!
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