Namor wants to burn the world, but he needs help to do it. He's in search of ancient magic that is rumored to be in Wakanda...in the form of a woman who doesn't know the power she possesses. Or at least she pretends not to.
There are 'smutty' scene...
The remaining French soldiers watched as three of their comrades were killed and tossed overboard. He was swift with the punishment, murdering them without remorse. The survivors' fear was palpable and it was clear that Namor had full control of the ship.
Rhiannon steadied herself against the side. The waves caused the vessel to rock and bob, and the anger from Namor coupled with the movements made her sick. She felt the sting of the scratches and her arm throbbed from where she'd been grabbed by the Frenchmen and jerked. She touched the spot where it hurt the most. Nothing was broken as far as she could tell. Just bruised skin and tender muscles.
She sucked in air through her teeth at the pain she felt from moving her arm. Namor heard this, turned to see what she reacted to, then swiftly grabbed another soldier and tossed him overboard. He was finished off by Attuma.
"Four." Namor said. "Now, tell me how you got those weapons? They should not have been able to penatrate her suit unless you used vibranium to create them. So, where do you get them?"
"It doesn't matter. Our supplier is dead." One of the Frenchman said.
"Who was he?"
"Klaue. His name was Ulysses Klaue. He was killed."
Rhiannon remembered hearing the fate of this weapons dealer at the hands of Shuri's cousin, Eric. T'Challa had to kill Eric after his attempted coup failed. Now, both men were dead as were their fathers. Both the queen and Shuri spoke of the matter with deep sadness at the fact the male royals were no more.
"Am I to believe you?" Namor smirked.
"I don't care what you believe. I'm telling the truth. I'm being honest with the hope that you will have empathy and spare my men."
"Ah, so you are the captain?"
Namor grabbed the man by his collar and half carried, half dragged him to the edge of the ship.
"Please...you can kill me, but spare them!"
"Look down, Captain. Do you see? The bodies of my people floating in the water. Do you see? You came here out of greed. To find more of the thing that could kill and intimidate, so your country could control more of the world. My people died defending ourselves. Now, you ask for empathy. What empathy did you have when you took the lives of my people? What remorse do you have now that I show you and your men the same level of empathy you showed us?"
"There are more weapons. Klaue created many more before he died and they are circulating. I can show you-"
Before he could finish, Namor tossed him over the ship.
"Five." He said, using his spear to point to Rhiannon's ankle where a thin trail of blood had slid down her leg. She hadn't even noticed that wound and figured it must be the cold air hitting her wet clothes out at sea, combined with the growing rage in her that seeped off of Namor.
She tried to control it, but it was exploding out of her and she could see the change begin. Rhiannon looked down at her bare feet. Water pooled around them that was at first clear. She watched a few seconds more and thin whisps of black weaved their way inside the clear pools. More and more black drops entered the puddles until they were black goo that sat around her feet and between her toes. Black vine-like threads wove up her ankles and crept up her thighs in a curled pattern that swirled beautifully. Well, that is, except for what it symbolized. Then her vision blurred.
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During the change, her eyes turned a shiny silver and she no longer saw the world the way humans did. No, now she saw through the eyes of the hungry. A starving soul in need of life to devour. She didn't see the face of a person. Only their life force pulsating and throbbing in colors of blue and purples around them. A beating aura that begged her to feed.
"Namor...leave," She said. Her voice changed as well. It was many - a high pitched sound like a child, a deep growl of a male, a sultry woman, a musical melody. All these voices were hers and they sounded like a chorus of many, accompanied by the echoes in whispers speaking simultaneously.
Her heart pounded. The transformation had begun...
