While the deities of the Underworld were embroiled in fervent discussions regarding the establishment of Reincarnation, another seismic event unfolded upon the heights of Mount Olympus, forever bathed in divine radiance.
Prometheus had acted exactly as Zeus anticipated: he had surreptitiously infiltrated the divine mountain to steal a spark. Moreover, the spark he sought was no ordinary flame, but a sliver of Zeus's own Thunderbolt.
Using methods known only to himself, the ancient God of Wisdom had intercepted a fragment of the starless and moonless firmament governed by Leto, the Goddess of Night. Drawing upon the powers of concealment, obscurity, and oblivion inherent in that celestial shroud, he had crept into the Temple of Zeus.
From the blinding, tyrannical majesty of the King's weapon, he took a single flicker of flame, hid it within the hollow of a fennel stalk, and turned to flee, intent on delivering it to the mortals below.
But Zeus had been vigilant. He had laid a snare, waiting for the interloper to walk right into it. Despite the divine protection of the Night-Shroud, Prometheus was intercepted during his escape by Apollo and Athena, whom Zeus had stationed to guard the fire.
The two deities were genuinely stunned that Prometheus would commit such an unwise act. Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom, sighed inwardly. This move would only serve to magnify Zeus's wrath. Once the King finished punishing this rebellious god, his fury would undoubtedly sweep across the mortals of the earth.
This generation of humanity is doomed, Athena thought with frustration. The right to create human women, which she had worked so hard to secure, was likely forfeit. Despite all her calculations, she had gained nothing but an insight into the Laws of the Soul. Even a mind as rational as hers couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation.
"Son of Iapetus, wily Forethinker—drop the spark at once!" Athena commanded. "Otherwise, what awaits you and the humans is the unbridled fury of the King of Gods!"
She hoped that if he surrendered now, she might still mediate and salvage the situation. It was a slim hope, but one she was willing to test.
Prometheus, however, was deaf to her pleas. He kept his head down, driving his divine chariot at breakneck speed toward the human settlements.
Apollo and Athena exchanged a look. Faced with the King's iron decree and Prometheus's stubbornness, they had no choice. They snapped their reins, urging their war-chariots into pursuit.
Between Athena's bronze war-chariot and Apollo's solar chariot—one built for conquest, the other for patrolling the heavens—Prometheus's vehicle stood no chance. The two pursuers closed the distance in heartbeats.
Prometheus glanced back at the encroaching deities. Gritting his teeth, he threw the fragment of the Night-Shroud behind him. The starless and moonless power immediately veiled the eyes of the two gods, forcing them to halt their chariots.
Apollo, being the son of Leto, was not long delayed by a power so similar to his mother's. With a minor exertion of divine force, he gathered the shroud, his heart seething. Prometheus, you dared steal my mother's mantle? If she is implicated in this, I will never let you hear the end of it!
Light returned to the world, but it was too late. Prometheus had already cast the fennel stalk down toward the earth.
The stalk, carrying the spark of the Thunderbolt, plummeted from the heavens. It struck with the roar of a thunderclap, erupting into brilliant, mesmerizing sparks. These flickers transformed into countless embers that drifted to every corner of the mortal realm, bringing warmth and hope to the humans who had been suffering in the dark, besieged by monsters.
More importantly, a strange ripple expanded across the earth. The humans felt their vision become inexplicably clear; they sensed a profound change within themselves, though they could not put a name to it.
The Spark of the Soul had been struck. The Fire of Civilization began to burn.
"It seems you are a step too late, my Lords," Prometheus said. He had stopped running. He turned back to face the two gods with his usual, tranquil smile.
Prometheus was hauled back to the divine mountain in chains. The King of Gods was incensed; dark clouds choked the peaks of Olympus, and the relentless roll of thunder signaled his deteriorating mood.
The theft of the divine fire was an egregious crime. Zeus invoked his supreme authority to summon all eleven other Primary Deities to the Great Temple.
The gods sat upon their respective thrones, while the criminal god, Prometheus, knelt below, bound in heavy chains, awaiting judgment.
Hebe was there, of course. She looked at Prometheus, but he kept his gaze lowered, refusing to meet her eyes. She sighed; she knew he didn't want her involved in this mess.
"Prometheus! First, you mocked the gods at Mekone, and now you have stolen the sacred fire. Your crimes are beyond forgiveness!" Zeus declared from his high throne. "Hephaestus, go forth and reclaim every spark of fire from the earth!"
"If you reclaim the fire, you will never learn which of your children is destined to overthrow you," Prometheus interrupted, looking up. In his deep green eyes, the light of wisdom swirled with unknown data. This scholar-god, usually perceived as physically weak, suddenly exuded a chilling, formidable pressure that made the assembly uneasy. "Furthermore... your rivals may come to learn the contents of the prophecy."
"You!"
Zeus's hair practically bristled with rage. Pale electricity flickered in his eyes, and the Thunderbolt in his hand hummed with lethal intent. Had it not been for the prophecy, he might have struck Prometheus dead on the spot.
"Great Father, Merciful King," Hebe spoke up, deciding to intervene. Prometheus might be beyond saving, but the mortals were innocent pawns. "While Prometheus was wrong to steal the fire, the humans have already endured a long period of punishment. They have realized their error and offer daily penance in the temples. Why not grant them mercy? Let them keep the fire."
"Hebe is right, Zeus," Hestia added. "The humans have recognized their offense. Even while starving, they have maintained their offerings. If you take the fire, how can I, the Goddess of the Hearth, fulfill my office? I oppose the motion."
"I agree," Ares boomed, standing up. His rugged, handsome features and perfect physique caused Aphrodite's emerald eyes to flicker with interest. "Without fire, humans cannot cook meat. Weakened, they have no heart for martial training. My temples are losing followers."
Setting Prometheus aside for a moment, the gods began to voice their opinions on the reclamation of the fire.
Against (Let humans keep fire): Hebe, Hestia, Ares.
For (Reclaim fire): Apollo (still bitter over the theft of his mother's shroud), Poseidon (caving to Zeus's pressure), Zeus.
Abstain: Aphrodite (indifferent), Hephaestus (timid), Athena (avoiding conflict), Demeter (docile and maternal).
The vote was a dead heat: three against three. The deciding vote fell to the Queen, Hera.
All eyes turned to the white-armed goddess with the auburn hair and regal purple eyes. Zeus wore a confident smirk; Hera was his Queen, his partner. Surely she would support him.
Under the collective gaze of the pantheon, the noble Hera spoke.
"I oppose."
"Hera!" Zeus bolted upright, staring at his Queen in disbelief and fury.
"Enough, Zeus. Do not push this to the point of no return," Hera said coolly, ignoring his rage. "Do you truly wish for your enemies to learn the prophecy?"
The reminder cooled Zeus's temper instantly. He swept a dark, heavy gaze over the gods who had opposed him, lingering for a moment on Hebe. This daughter of mine is becoming increasingly difficult to control...
However, the Twelve Seats of the Primary Deities were not mere decoration; they were protected by the Laws. Even a King could not ignore the consensus of the High Council on matters of such gravity.
The Wisdom of Metis within him stirred, and Zeus's expression smoothed into a mask of composure. He sat back down. "Since this is the decision of the Council, very well. The fire shall remain on the earth for mortal use."
"But you, Prometheus..." Zeus turned his cruel gaze back to the kneeling god. "Your crime is unforgivable. In my name as King, you are stripped of your rank among the gods of Olympus. Hephaestus shall forge chains to bind your divinity. You shall be shackled to the heights of Mount Caucasus. My herald, the Eagle, shall feast upon your liver every day until the end of time."
The gods shuddered at the cruelty. Since gods are immortal, Prometheus's liver would regrow every night, only to be devoured again the next day—an eternal, infinite cycle of agony. In their minds, they moved Zeus's danger rating to the absolute maximum.
The King truly has a vendetta against the gods of Wisdom, many thought. They wondered who suffered more: Metis, or her nephew Prometheus. (Prometheus's mother, Clymene, was the sister of Metis, making them aunt and nephew by blood.)
Prometheus remained unmoved by the sentence. His face was a mask of stoic acceptance.
Dissatisfied with this lack of reaction, Zeus decided to twist the knife. "Since the humans' guide, Prometheus, is a criminal bound for the Caucasus, the mortals will need a new leader. Fittingly, I appoint his brother, Epimetheus, to that role."
Epimetheus? The God of Ignorance?
The gods were aghast. To put a fool-god in charge of humanity—a god whose aura of stupidity could cloud the minds of even the divine—was a calculated act of sabotage. It was a punishment for humanity in all but name.
Prometheus's green eyes finally locked onto Zeus's. The air between them crackled with hostility.
You wish to grant them wisdom and civilization? Zeus's gaze screamed. I shall use the power of Epimetheus to shroud their souls in a mist of idiocy. Let us see how long your 'Fire of Civilization' burns then.
"Apollo! Take this criminal away to his punishment!"
As Apollo stood to lead him away, the silent Prometheus suddenly spoke, his voice echoing with divine weight.
"Wisdom that is stolen and hoarded cannot endure; it shall eventually return to its proper place. Those who desecrate Wisdom shall eventually face retribution from the Laws of Wisdom themselves!"
He spat out a God-Word, a curse of divine resonance. An invisible force descended upon Zeus—the Laws of Wisdom responding to the blasphemy of one who had swallowed the Goddess Metis.
Zeus's face paled. An inky-blue radiance flickered at his brow, trembling violently as it tried to tear itself away from its usurper.
It was flying toward Athena!
The goddess of the shield and spear turned white. She looked at her father and found him staring back at her, his eyes harborring a nascent, murderous intent.
Alarm bells rang in Athena's head. She stood and addressed the Laws directly: "In the name of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, I voluntarily renounce the heritage of my mother!"
With her declaration, the flickering light at Zeus's brow ceased its struggle. Zeus forcibly suppressed it with his own power, preventing its escape.
"Well done, my daughter. Your loyalty pleases me," Zeus said, nodding with grim approval at her pragmatism.
Athena forced a brittle smile and sat down. Her back was drenched in cold sweat.
Hebe watched the drama unfold, marveling at the sheer intensity of the "divine tea" being served. She glanced at Athena, a thought forming in her mind. This goddess is not as trusted by Zeus as I thought. Perhaps... there is an opportunity here.
"Muzzle him and take him away!" Zeus roared, his eyes full of fear and killing intent toward Prometheus.
Prometheus gave a scornful laugh. Suppress it all you want, he thought. The Law's retribution has only just begun. Enjoy the 'help' of Wisdom; soon enough, you will learn what it means to be undone by your own cleverness.
Apollo led Prometheus away. Silence fell over the Great Temple. The gods looked at one another, stunned by the revelations, unsure of what to say. The atmosphere was stifling.
"Hephaestus!" Zeus barked suddenly.
"Great King, what are your orders?" the lame god asked, standing quickly. He lived in the shadow of his father's temper, terrified of being hurled off the mountain again.
"After you forge the chains for Prometheus, I want you to create something else. A human woman. Perfect, with beauty to rival the goddesses, and a charm that no man can resist. I shall give her as a 'gift' to the humans of the earth, to celebrate their new acquisition of fire."
Zeus's smile was warm and genial, but no god in the room truly believed it was a "gift."