Eron landed at the center of Atlantis's plaza, his feet sinking slightly into the coral marble under the weight of his new density. Thousands of Atlantean soldiers, still in shock from floating kilometers above the ocean, raised their trembling tridents toward him.
Arthur Curry, fallen and bleeding, tried to rise, but Eron's mere presence exerted a gravitational pressure that kept him on his knees.
"Look at your king," Eron said, his voice echoing through the crystal domes of the suspended city. "He ruled the depths, hidden in the dark. I brought you into the light. I gave you the sky. But for what is coming, you cannot remain fish caught in a net. You must become weapons."
Eron clenched the fist where the ring glowed. He did not rely on magnetism alone; he summoned the essence of Wrath and Pride he had torn from Shazam's abomination. A blood-red mist began to seep from his pores, crawling across Atlantis like living smoke.
"Accept my baptism," Eron commanded. "Or die as relics of a world that no longer exists."
The mist reached the first soldiers. They screamed as the energy of Sin invaded their gills and muscles. The transformation was violent: their scaled skin turned metallic gray, fusing with their armor through Eron's magnetism. Their pupils vanished, replaced by the same scarlet glow of Wrath. Their bodies doubled in size, and the membranes between their fingers hardened into claws of indestructible organic metal.
Within minutes, Atlantis's army was no longer a royal guard; it was a legion of Mutant Elite Predators.
"They no longer feel fear, Arthur," Diana said, walking among the ranks of monsters now kneeling before Eron. "They feel only your will. They are the pride of Atlantis forged into steel."
Eron looked upon his new soldiers. Each one was mentally linked to his ring. He could feel their fury—an orchestra of violence waiting to be conducted.
"Mark your tridents with my symbol," Eron ordered. "Today, Atlantis ceases to be a kingdom. Today, it becomes my forge."
He turned toward the horizon, where the curve of the Earth met the black of space.
"Diana, prepare the citadel. We will not wait for the gods of other worlds to find us. We will take the war to them. First, we will cleanse Olympus of every trace of Zeus. Then… the stars."
Eron would not march to Olympus as an heir begging for a place at the table. He would march as the architect of a new order, and its foundation was the warrior blood of Themyscira.
Before reaching Greek soil, the floating citadel of Atlantis altered its course, casting a shadow over the sacred waters of Paradise Island. The Amazons, armed with bows and silver spears, looked to the sky, ready for war—until they felt the crushing and familiar pressure of Eron's divinity.
Eron descended from the heavens like a god-king of ebony and gold, the ground trembling beneath the weight of his infinite density. He was no longer the boy who sought approval; he was the apex of power.
Before him, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, stepped forward. Her eyes, once filled with maternal authority, now gleamed with a mixture of submission and fierce desire. At her side, Diana was already waiting, her sword drawn and bathed in the black light of Eron's ring.
"My queens. My lovers. My weapons," Eron's voice echoed across the island, charged with the resonance of Wrath and Pride.
He walked to Diana first. With a hand that could crush mountains, he held her face with possessive gentleness. He kissed her with a passion that made the air crackle with static electricity—a seal of conquest.
Then he turned to Hippolyta. The queen did not retreat; she bowed her head, accepting his dominion. Eron pulled her into a deep, burning kiss, fusing her ancient authority to his absolute will.
"Olympus has forgotten the taste of steel and fury," Eron said, looking at the ranks of thousands of Amazons now striking their shields in unison, chanting his name. "They are no longer mere guardians of an island. They are my predatory guard."
With Diana at his right and Hippolyta at his left, Eron led the ascent. Atlantis now carried not only the mutated soldiers of the depths, but also the Amazons of Themyscira, whose weapons had been enchanted by Eron's magnetism to cut through the very essence of gods.
The citadel hovered over Greece, and Mount Olympus seemed small before Eron's fleet.
"Behold your end!" Eron roared, his hands intertwined with those of his two queens as they floated toward Zeus's palace.
Below, lesser gods fled like rats. The scent of incense was replaced by ozone and blood. Zeus emerged at the summit, the Master Bolt trembling in his hand as he saw his son flanked by the two most powerful women of his myth—now transformed into his concubines and war generals.
"You have corrupted everything, Eron!" Zeus roared, tears of a god falling like acid rain.
"I merely gave them a real purpose, father," Eron replied, releasing Diana and Hippolyta's hands. "Diana, Hippolyta… kill the guards. Leave the king to me."
The two warriors leapt like black arrows, beginning the slaughter of the gods, while Eron walked calmly through the air, his ring glowing with a hunger the Master Bolt could never satisfy.