On the brick-walled side of the building, a tall, muscular woman with long brown hair stood in front of a wooden training dummy, her arnis sticks striking it rhythmically with sharp precision. “Lucy! Your father and brother are ridiculously late!” she shouted, her voice booming despite her daughter standing mere feet away.

Lucy, a girl with short brown hair, exuded a quiet, brooding energy—a stark contrast to her brother Logan’s golden retriever-like charisma. Draped in a dark robe, she radiated a no-nonsense demeanor as she leaned against the wall with a quarterstaff in hand. “Remind me again why we’re going? Because Anita said Merlin’s son might need our help? Haven’t you already done enough for the bastard who betrayed you?” she said coldly. Her eyes narrowed as she walked up to the wooden dummy, delivering a few precise strikes that shattered it into splinters. “He left you and dad to rot while he went off and played overlord.”

The woman’s face darkened with fury, her arnis sticks trembling in her grip. “That’s the fifth dummy you’ve destroyed this month, you little hellion!” she snapped, glaring at Lucy. But Lucy merely yawned, stretching lazily before pulling on a loose shirt that revealed a network of scars across her arms.

“Sorry,” Lucy said flatly, tossing the remains of the dummy aside. “I’ll make another one.”

The woman’s anger evaporated instantly, replaced by an overly cheerful grin. She rushed forward, wrapping Lucy in a bear hug. “Really?! You’re amazing, honeybun!” she gushed, completely ignoring Lucy’s lack of reciprocation. Lucy stood stiffly, sighing in resignation.

Meanwhile, Mark and Logan strolled through the bustling halls of the spire-adorned building, weaving through people busily preparing for departure. Logan cracked his knuckles, his face a mix of irritation and determination. “Dad, we need to have a serious talk,” he said, his tone sharp.

“What’s on your mind?” Mark asked, stroking his beard casually.

Logan threw his hands up in exasperation. “You and Mom’s marriage! It’s ridiculous! You don’t even live together! Every holiday, we’re bouncing back and forth—dinner here, lunch there. It’s exhausting!” His voice grew louder as they exited the spire building and entered the brick-walled structure, equally alive with bustling activity.

Mark shrugged, still unbothered. “Your sister doesn’t seem to have a problem with it,” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “That’s because she’s evil!” Logan shot back, his frustration boiling over. “She tied me out of a window once!” Mark chuckled softly, as if the memory amused him. “You were just a kid back then.”

“I WAS 13!” Logan shouted, his voice echoing down the hall.

The two knocked lightly on the door before stepping into the women’s quarters, each flashing a playful grin. “Are we fashionably late?” Mark asked with a chuckle, only to duck as an arnis stick whizzed past his head and embedded itself into the wall behind him.

“No, just late!” the tall, muscular woman snapped, striding toward him with a dramatic pout. Without warning, she leapt up and smacked him lightly on the head. “What are you standing there for? Get over here and give me a hug!” she demanded.

Mark laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “Sorry, Yasmine. I’m just an old man now,” he joked, despite barely being in his thirties.

Yasmine rolled her eyes, releasing a scoff. “Old man, my foot,” she muttered. Then her expression shifted, her brows furrowing. “So, this girl—she’s the reason we’re reuniting? All for Merlin’s son?” she asked, crossing her arms.

Mark slid his hands to her waist with a smirk. “That’s right. We’re heading to the Auroria Dominion, to serve under the young master himself. Of course…” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Not before we test his strength first.”

“Not in front of the kids, you idiot!” Yasmine chuckled, but her amusement quickly turned to surprise as Mark effortlessly hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Kids, we’ll be back! Gotta sort a few things out!” Mark announced with a hearty laugh, heading out of the room with a mischievous smirk. Yasmine squirmed, half-laughing, half-protesting. “No fighting while we’re gone!” he called over his shoulder.

The moment they were out of sight, Lucy stood up and delivered a sharp kick to a nearby wooden dummy, splintering it into pieces. Logan glanced up from his phone, smirking. “You’ve got the physique of a punching bag, sis. You should aim for silky smoothness, like me,” he teased, flexing dramatically.

Lucy’s growl was low and menacing. “Yeah, because last time we sparred, you sliced me up like sashimi!”

Logan’s smirk faltered, replaced with a narrow-eyed glare. “After you turned me into a human piñata!” he snapped, standing up and marching toward her. “Do you even understand how hard it’s been managing the Blade faction by myself?!”

Without warning, he threw a punch, his fist colliding with Lucy’s tightly braced body. She didn’t flinch, glaring daggers at him. “What the hell is your problem?!” she yelled, kicking him in the chest and forcing him back.

“Oh, you wanna go?” Logan growled, drawing his sword with a sharp metallic hiss. “Grab your sticks! Let’s settle this now. I’m turning you into sashimi!”

Lucy didn’t hesitate, snatching up her arnis sticks. Her smirk was feral. “How many ribs am I breaking this time?”

Two days later, in the heart of Atlantis, Melanthius sat at the center of a grand table, his face lit up with a wide, genuine smile as the Atlanteans and his friends sang a cheerful rendition of "Happy Birthday" to him. The group, though surrounded by laughter and warmth, couldn't shake the unease that clung to them. Despite the fact they weren’t physically affected by the pressure or the risk of drowning, the vast, endless ocean surrounding them—only broken by the towering buildings of Atlantis—left them with an eerie sense of isolation.

Mel clapped enthusiastically, his eyes twinkling as he leaned forward to blow out the candles. "I wish to live a normal life with all of my beautiful friends!" he declared, his voice filled with sincerity.

“Are we going to tell him how unsettling it feels down here?” Arid whispered to Elowen, glancing at the vast, eerie expanse of the ocean beyond Atlantis’s shimmering buildings. Elowen’s hair floated gently in the water as she sighed. “Let’s just let him enjoy his moment,” she said softly, watching Mel’s infectious smile as he soaked in the celebration.

Mel’s attention turned as Rue wheeled over to him, holding a sleek, rectangular box in her lap. “Happy birthday,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically warm as she handed it to him.

Mel opened the box and lifted out a beautifully crafted notebook. Its edges gleamed with a faint silver glow, and the cover shimmered like an ocean wave. Rue grinned. “It’s a notebook that projects holograms of whatever you jot down. Perfect for someone whose ideas deserve to be seen in three dimensions.”

Mel traced his fingers over the cover, his eyes lighting up when he saw the words engraved on it: For the brightest man I know.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He looked at Rue, his grin stretching ear to ear before he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you,” he said with a rare softness. Rue froze for a moment, caught off guard, then awkwardly patted his back.

“Alright, don’t get all mushy on me,” she muttered, but her smirk betrayed her amusement.

Elowen stepped forward, holding a small, carefully wrapped box in her hands. She offered it to Mel with a warm smile. “Happy birthday, Mel.”

Curious, Mel opened the box and found a delicate bracelet inside. The charm was a striking design—a bolt of blue lightning surrounded by soft, swirling clouds. The craftsmanship was intricate, the charm glinting like it held a spark of real magic.

“It’s a blend of my Camelot lightning and your cloud magic,” Elowen explained, her voice gentle.

Mel slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, admiring it with a thoughtful expression. “Thank you,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

Before he could say more, Elowen stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him in a firm but tender hug. For a moment, Mel hesitated, then slowly brought his arms up to return the gesture, his touch careful and grateful.

Across the room, Rue watched the interaction with narrowed eyes. As Mel hugged Elowen, a pang of annoyance flickered across her face. Rue absentmindedly scratched at the faint green mark on her arm.

“Did she just one-up me…?” Rue thought, her lips twitching into a wry smirk despite herself.

A few moments later, Mel sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the empty seat across from him. His fingers drummed idly against the table, his thoughts far away.

Elowen approached from behind and slid into the seat beside him. “Thinking about Dorian?” she asked softly.

Mel turned his head to look at her, nodding. “Yeah… that, and everything else,” he admitted, his voice low. “There’s still so much I don’t understand—so many questions I need answers to.”

He lowered his head, letting out a quiet sigh as his fingers resumed their restless tapping on the table. Elowen stayed close, her presence calm and steady, offering silent support.

Lance approached Mel with a grin and handed him a small, sleek button. “Happy birthday, sensei,” he said, his tone casual but warm.

Mel took the button and inspected it curiously. “Wait… is this what I think it is?” His eyes widened. “You got me a car?!”

Lance smirked, crossing his arms. “Of course. Every sixteen-year-old needs a ride, right? Thought you could use something flashy to match your genius.”

Mel ruffled Lance’s hair with a grin. “My favorite student!”

“Guys, come on, we’re about to light the fireworks!” Arid shouted, running past them with excitement.

“You all go ahead. I’ll catch up,” Mel said, waving them off. Elowen and Lance exchanged a glance before walking toward the celebration.

As Mel lingered, Goda stumbled up to him, holding a bottle and laughing. “King! Come on, let’s party!” he said, thrusting the bottle toward Mel.

Mel shook his head, pushing the bottle away. “No thanks. I’m underage.”

Goda laughed, slurring his words. “Underage? You’re a king, my guy! Birthdays are for living a little.” He burped and leaned closer, wagging the bottle. “Come on, just one sip. It’ll help you forget all those heavy problems of yours. Stimulate your mind!”

Mel hesitated, the weight of Goda’s words hanging in the air. “Forget about my problems…?” he murmured, taking the bottle.

He stared at the shimmering Atlantis brew for a moment before tilting it back and taking a long drink.

Mel tossed the bottle into a nearby trash can with a perfect jump shot. “LET’S PARTY!” he shouted, his voice ringing with excitement. The Atlanteans erupted into cheers, their energy infectious.

With a burst of speed, Mel flew through the water, heading toward the gathering where everyone had encircled the fireworks. His sharp eyes locked onto the string connecting the fireworks together. He raised his hand, black lightning crackling across his fingers.

With a swift, controlled spark, he ignited the string. In an instant, the fireworks burst to life, shooting into the water’s depths and exploding in vibrant, shimmering patterns. The radiant colors danced across Atlantis, illuminating the faces of everyone below as they marveled at the dazzling display.

Suddenly, a collective scream erupted as the massive shadow of the legendary Kraken loomed over the crowd. The colossal beast let out a deafening roar, its glowing eyes piercing through the water.

“What the hell is that?!” Arid shouted, pointing frantically at the creature.

All eyes turned upward to see Mel proudly perched atop the Kraken’s massive head, a wide, drunken grin plastered on his face. “Look at my birthday present, everyone!” he hollered, spreading his arms dramatically.

Before anyone could respond, Mel began pounding his chest like a caveman and chanting, “Kraken king! Kraken king!” His Atlantean followers, either fueled by their king’s infectious energy or too shocked to question it, quickly joined in, chanting along in unison.

The Kraken, seemingly unfazed by the spectacle, gave a low rumble as if reluctantly acknowledging its new title.

“Mel! This is way too big! What are you even going to do with it?” Rue shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth to be heard over the Kraken’s rumbling growls.

Mel floated lazily in the water, leaning against nothing as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Hmm… maybe sashimi?” he mused with a smirk.

The Kraken thrashed wildly beneath him, as though offended by the suggestion.

“Nah,” Mel waved dismissively, “it’s too magnificent to eat.” His tone softened, and his eyes drifted toward the castle in the distance, where Maren once slept. “Besides… someone very special gave it to me.”

Flashback

Mel sat on the edge of a grand bed in the Atlantis castle, his head bowed slightly. Maren, standing tall and resolute, slung his trident onto his back.

“So, you’re leaving?” Mel asked quietly, not looking up.

“You’ve done enough for me, kid,” Maren said firmly, his voice carrying both gratitude and finality. “I’ve repaid my debt to this kingdom by helping their king—you. Now, it’s time for me to settle my own score.”

Mel’s fists clenched in his lap. “Michelangelo…”

Maren gave a sharp nod. “Yeah. I’m going to kill him. You’re the king now, Mel. The castle, the kingdom—it’s yours. Stop being so damn modest if you want the answers you’re looking for. And one more thing…”

Maren paused, his gaze piercing but filled with an almost brotherly warmth. “Don’t kill Michelangelo before I do.”

With a small smirk, he turned and conjured a swirling water portal. Without another word, he stepped through it, vanishing from sight.

End Flashback

Mel snapped back to the present, his hand absentmindedly resting on the Kraken’s head. “I’ll take care of it… and this kingdom,” he murmured to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips.