The grandeur of Atlantis's spires rose before them, gleaming beneath the ocean's surface. Kre'as led Yakone through the shimmering bubble that protected the city, into the heart of a world unknown to the surface dweller. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as they passed; word of Kre'as' conquest had already spread.
King Thalassa awaited them in his throne room, and Yakone was taken to the experimental labs, no doubt his life of torment had just begun, later Yakone would state he wished his bending was taken away from him by Aang.
King Thalassa, his expression stormy as the sea during a tempest. Queen Marchesa stood by his side, her gaze flickering between husband and Kre'as with a veiled concern.
"Brother," Thalassa began, his voice carrying the weight of his title, "you bring dishonor with your recklessness."
Marchesa stepped forward, her lips parting to speak, but Thalassa raised a hand, silencing her. She retreated, a flash of defiance in her eyes before it was quelled by royal decree.
Kre'as met Thalassa's gaze squarely, the air between them crackling with unspoken tension. "I bring results," he countered coolly, "results…" Thalassa said dryly, "I asked for the head of the Avatar, but instead you brought back a backwater bloodbender" Thalassa continued, "I bring what I bring and power respects only strength. Do not forget, brother, I let you wear that crown." Kre'as nonchalant look changed drastically as the temperature of the room dropped several degrees.
Thalassa's jaw tightened, but he could not refute the truth in Kre'as' words. Power was the currency of their kind, and Kre'as was wealthy beyond measure. "Fine begone, and finish what was instructed of you general" Thalassa said coldly, dismissing Kre'as.
Kre'as offered no response, simply turning on his heel and heading toward the door.
Kre'as locked eyes with the guards, a smug grin playing on his lips as he deliberately prodded at their sore spot. "Tell me, brother," he taunted, using the nickname reserved only for the Queen's favored courtiers, "why does your marriage to Esa remain fruitless after all these years?" The air seemed to thicken with tension as Thalassa's face contorted in rage, his loyal guards bristling with fury.
With a single flick of his wrist, Kre'as summoned a tempest of water that swirled around them in a dangerous dance of power and grace. But the guards, bound by their loyalty to the King, stood unmoving, their determined faces betraying nothing as they prepared for an attack.
"Insolence!" one guard bellowed, setting off a chain reaction as torrents of water surged towards Kre'as with deadly precision. But the cunning prince remained unfazed, his smirk growing wider as he effortlessly froze the cascading droplets into sharp shards of ice suspended in mid-air. The room fell into an eerie silence, save for Kre'as' icy moon like eyes that glowed with an otherworldly intensity.
"Cease this folly," he commanded, his voice dripping with authority that surpassed mere royal standing. "Have you forgotten my bloodline? Or has my absence from your petty political games made you forget the true extent of my powers?" A palpable chill filled the room as Kre'as exuded an aura of unrelenting strength and dominance. Even King Thalassa, amidst the chaos and confusion, could not deny the unsettling feeling that crept up his spine—a dread born of recognition. For he knew that when Kre'as unleashed his full elemental fury, none could stand against him. And in that moment, he feared for his own life and for the kingdom that had once been under his iron rule.
"Stand down!" Thalassa ordered, raising a hand to halt his guards. They obeyed, albeit reluctantly, their expressions a mix of frustration and awe. The king stepped forward, his regal bearing doing little to mask the anxiety that laced his words.
"Kre'as, you would dare threaten us in our own domain?" Thalassa challenged, though the quiver in his voice betrayed the certainty of his command.
"Brother," Kre'as replied, the ice around him reflecting the coldness in his tone, "I am beyond these petty squabbles and politics, which is why I abdicated the throne, just because I am not here does not separate me from this domain. But let it be known, as an Atlantean, it is beneath me to fight an avatar who has yet to reach his full potential." His gaze softened ever so slightly, looking at Queen Marchesa's worried look.
"I will grant Aang the time he needs. Only then, in the height of his prowess, will the battle between us be worthy of legend."
The king exhaled, the tension ebbing from his shoulders. In that moment, he understood the futility of resistance, the depth of Kre'as' mercy—and the true extent of his threat.
With a slow, measured breath, King Thalassa acquiesced to the inevitable. "Leave us," he commanded, his eyes never leaving Kre'as. The tension in the room dissipated as the formidable figure of Kre'as turned on his heel and strode out, the echo of his steps a stark reminder of the power he wielded so effortlessly.
The heavy door shut with a resounding thud, sealing away the chill that had permeated the chamber just moments before. Silence hung heavily as Thalassa's gaze drifted from where his brother had exited to Queen Marchesa who had watched the entire confrontation with a mixture of fear and fascination.
"Marchesa," Thalassa began, his tone deceptively calm, "you will do well to remember your place."
The queen met his eyes, her own reflecting a tumult of emotions. Before she could decipher the storm brooding in his gaze, Thalassa's hand whipped across her face with a crack that resonated against the marble walls. The force of it sent her reeling, a bright red imprint blooming across her cheek like the first sign of an unwelcome dawn.
"Never," he seethed, his voice a venomous whisper, "let your eyes linger on him again. Do you understand me?"
Tears welled in Marchesa's eyes, but she held them back, nodding sharply as she brought a hand to her stinging cheek. She knew better than to show weakness now; the king's wrath was a fearsome thing, Although, weaker than Kre'as he was still the second-strongest warrior in Atlantis and commanded the same respect.
Thalassa watched her closely, ensuring his message had been received loud and clear before stepping away, his back to her. His mind raced with plots and schemes, each more treacherous than the last. Alone with his thoughts, Thalassa allowed himself a moment to entertain the dark tendrils of his ambition.
"Kre'as, you think yourself untouchable," he muttered under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "But even gods can fall from grace. And I will be the one to clip your wings."
He knew the road ahead would be fraught with danger, but the seed of betrayal had been planted. In the shadow of his brother's defiance, King Thalassa vowed to restore balance to his realm, no matter the cost. There, in the sanctity of his silent chambers, the plot to destroy Kre'as for his insolence began to take root, promising a storm that would shake the very foundations of Atlantis.