Days of Chaos: A Marvel/DC Multiversal Crisis

Chapter One: How To Get Away With Warmongering (Part One)

As Ocean Master, Orm was one of the most formidable adversaries the world had ever seen. He regularly challenged the Justice League and his half-human brother Arthur Curry - the Aquaman. He even won a few times. But then two worlds crashed into each other. And Orm colluded with a giant green monster that left him in a body cast and recovery for five years.

In a prison called the Cube. After ten years, he could finally walk without a cane, but his fighting days were over. The Hulk, as they called that monster, turned some of Orm's bones to dust. His left leg was a prosthetic now. Most people like him, which he now accepts are "supervillains." would do some crazy upgrade to the prosthetic and attempt revenge. But Orm just wanted to swim in the ocean again. He didn't feel the need to take revenge out on the Hulk. In fact, when he learned from another inmate that the Hulk sacrificed himself fighting the creature Parallax, he felt a little sad for him.

The only person he still held a grudge against was Aquaman. So when it turned out that two half-Atlanteans had claims to the throne, Orm thought it was the greatest day of his life. First, let them kill each other and then take the throne. Then Black Manta convinced him to help commander a nuclear submarine, then the Hulk, then a decade of chronic pain.

It wasn't like he could go after Aquaman anyway. International courts sentenced him to life. There was no way out of the Cube.

"Oh, there are plenty of ways out of the Cube."

Ocean Master jumped from his bed and looked across the cell to the desk and chair they eventually provided him. In it sat a slender but imposing woman. She wore a green pantsuit...and a crown with two protruding horns.

"Who are you?"

The woman stood up and smoothed out her suit. "Not important. But I can get you out of here."

"They'll just go after me. Have you seen me walk?"

"Oh, I can get you out of here and make it look perfectly legit."

Orm looked out of his window. Ten years, he looked out that window and saw the open sea. "What's your price?"

"You've accepted long ago that the Atlantean throne would never be yours. But you still have influence in that realm. And I have a feeling you still hate your brother."

Orm didn't respond.

"The conflict between Aquaman and Namor is always right about to start boiling. I want to adjust the heat just slightly. Just so we see a bubble or two."

Ocean Master turned back to the woman. "Why?"

"I have my reasons. The question is, do you care enough about them to miss an opportunity at freedom and pissing off your brother?"

Orm closed his eyes. "No. No, I do not."

When he opened his eyes, the woman was gone, and the warden was opening the cell door.

"Well, Ocean Master, seems that Defender Society believes you can be of some service to the world, even as a crippled has-been.

"The Who?"

"Oh, right, they formed when you were, uh..."

"Completely paralyzed?" Orm responded.

The warden nodded. There wasn't much about the warden that seemed threatening—a portly, older Black man who probably only smiled twice in his life. But in a decade, there has never been a riot that lasted more than two minutes or a breakout that he wasn't already aware of.

And now he was going to walk him right out of prison?

"All right, Ocean—"

"It's Orm."

"Orm?"

"Yeah. Ocean Master was beaten to a pulp by the Incredible Hulk. Didn't you hear?"

"Okay, Orm. I'm George W. Bridge.

Orm lifted his eyebrow. "Why does that sound familiar?"

Bridge shrugged. "No reason, I'm sure. But, still, let's get you out of the Cube and, uh, don't visit New York City. It's not as special as people make it out to be."

Orm shrugged, looked at his cell one last time, and followed Bridge to freedom.