Chapter 193: ASHLEY’S PLEA
Aaron muttered, "Not bad," his voice a low, resonant growl that reverberated through the cosmic void, his mind alight with the surge of his newly acquired abilities.
With a flicker of intent, Aaron time-stepped toward the shimmering blue orb of Planet Atlantis, the cosmos blurring around him in a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of starlight and swirling nebulae. The planet core, a pulsating artifact of raw, untamed energy, throbbed in his thoughts, an irreplaceable prize he would never relinquish. Behind him trailed Flameborn, his son, whose aura crackled like embers in the infinite darkness, and his three wives, Alice, Rose, and Bluestar. Thier radiant forms moving with synchronized grace, their silhouettes glowing against the starry expanse, a testament to their unwavering loyalty.
As Aaron descended upon Atlantis, the planet’s surface glimmered like a polished sapphire, its endless oceans refracting light in a hypnotic dance of azure and emerald. He materialized within the heart of the underwater city, its towering spires of coral and crystal shimmering with bioluminescent hues, casting ethereal patterns across the submerged halls.
A young mermaid glided forward, her movements as fluid as the tides, bowing deeply before Aaron with a reverence that bordered on sacred. "Welcome, my Lord," she said, her voice soft yet resonant, like waves caressing a moonlit shore. Her cerulean hair cascaded in silken waves, shimmering under the city’s ethereal glow, and her sea-green eyes sparkled with cautious awe. Her fair skin glowed with an almost translucent sheen, her blue-scaled tail glinting like polished sapphire, a vision of otherworldly beauty that even Aaron’s steely gaze couldn’t ignore.
"You are?" Aaron asked, his tone laced with curiosity, his piercing eyes studying her every gesture, searching for intent beneath her deference.
"I am Ashley, my Lord," she replied, bowing again, her posture radiating humility. "The soon-to-be queen of Atlantis, should you show mercy and spare us for my father’s reckless aggression." Her words carried no trace of malice, only a quiet resolve, as if she bore the weight of her people’s survival on her delicate shoulders, her expression serene yet resolute, a beacon of hope in the face of ruin.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed, glowing a fierce crimson as he invoked the compulsion of vampires, a subtle pulse of power that forced truth from her lips, its weight pressing against her mind like an invisible tide. "You seek no revenge for the death of your parent and people?" His voice was a low, rumbling challenge, probing for any hidden defiance in her heart.
Ashley’s sea-green eyes met his unflinchingly, unwavering under the weight of his compulsion. "No, my Lord. I feel only sadness and regret that my father’s arrogance led to this tragedy. Had he chosen diplomacy, our people might have been spared. The fault is his alone." Her voice rang clear as a bell in the silent hall, her truth unshakable, resonating with a clarity that cut through the tension like a blade.
"Hmm? Only sadness? No hatred?" Aaron pressed, his skepticism lingering like a shadow across his thoughts. The memory of millions of merfolk perishing under his ruthless hand made her composure almost unbelievable, yet her gaze held no deception, only a quiet strength.
Ashley offered a faint, knowing smile, her expression tinged with the weight of her choice, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding forged in sacrifice. Before facing Aaron, she had meticulously analyzed the standoff, her mind dissecting the events with clinical precision. While Aaron’s actions had been brutal, her father’s hubris had ignited the conflict. Accepting this, she had shed any blame she might have cast on Aaron, her heart steeled by a lifetime of emotional detachment—a trait that had made her the prime choice to succeed her father, surpassing her siblings in the eyes of the Atlanteans, who saw in her a leader capable of navigating the storm.
"Your acceptance is swift," Aaron remarked, his voice softening slightly, intrigued by the steel beneath her serene facade. "But what of your people?"
Ashley’s smile deepened, a glimmer of cunning sparkling in her eyes like sunlight on water. "The masses are like water, my Lord. They conform to the shape of their leaders. I need only spin the narrative, casting my father and the fallen as villains to be despised, while you, my Lord, emerge as the hero who freed us from his tyranny." Her words were measured, her plan a masterful weave of pragmatism and manipulation, each syllable crafted with the precision of a diplomat. Aaron’s estimation of her rose, impressed by the mermaid’s strategic mind, her resolve a beacon in the murky depths.
"And you would let your father’s legacy be tarnished?" Aaron asked, his tone probing the depths of her resolve, searching for any crack in her conviction.
"I would do anything to ensure my people’s survival," Ashley replied, her voice unwavering, her gaze steady as the ocean’s depths. "If my father’s name is the price, I pay it willingly."
Aaron considered her words, his crimson eyes flickering with approval, a rare spark of respect igniting within him. "Very well. How long will you need?"
"A year, my Lord," Ashley answered, her tone deliberate, each word weighed with care. "I must let them grieve, then subtly weave the narrative into their lives slowly, imperceptibly, until they embrace it fully. The timeframe ensures its effectiveness, but if you wish, I can hasten—"
"No need," Aaron interrupted, his voice firm yet approving, a nod to her foresight. "Do as you please."
Ashley’s lips curved into a mild, grateful smile, her relief palpable as she bowed once more, her tail flicking gently in the water. With a graceful turn, she glided away to organize Atlantis, tasked with reshaping its future under Aaron’s watchful gaze, her figure vanishing into the glowing corridors like a specter of hope.
Aaron, however, had no intention of waiting a full year. With a thought, he accelerated time for Atlantis, bending the fabric of reality until a hundredfold temporal surge enveloped the planet, the ocean’s currents shimmering with the distortion of time. A year for the Atlanteans would pass in mere days in the universe’s flow, a testament to his dominion over the very essence of existence.
His task complete, Aaron time-stepped again, materializing before King Oreon, who floated in the starry void, his once-proud form ravaged by agony, his scales dulled by suffering. The Atlantean king’s eyes, dull with despair, locked onto Aaron, his voice a broken whisper, trembling with defeat. "Please... just kill me."