Ch. 57: The Secret Behind Titanomachy (I)
“What are you really implying, Prometheus?” My voice cut through the heavy air, each word laced with a sharpness that echoed against the cavern walls. His claims stirred unease within me, a ripple of doubt. Was Prometheus ever able to see into the future in the stories? The old tales spoke of his defiance, his fire, but never foresight. I couldn’t help myself— I had to test him.
“Prove it,” I challenged, my tone unwavering. “Prove you can see the future.”
For a moment, Prometheus stared at me, his gaze empty and distant, as if the weight of centuries rested in his tired eyes. Then, his face broke into a wide grin, and a raspy, hollow laugh escaped him, filling the silence with an unsettling echo. “This… this is the most fun I’ve had in ages. Do you think I need to prove anything to you?” His laughter died down, his expression shifting into something more cryptic. “You want to know why I created humanity, don’t you?”
My breath caught in my throat. He knows. My body stiffened as a chill slid down my spine. That was exactly what I had intended to ask. He hadn’t even given me the chance to speak it aloud. I stood frozen, my heart beating faster as his words hung in the air. He smiled at my reaction, knowing he had pierced through my thoughts.
The myths had never provided a satisfying answer. Why would a Titan, one so high and mighty, lower himself to create fragile beings like humans? The thought nagged at me for centuries, and yet no story, no text, had ever explained it. Prometheus wasn’t the type to create something out of whimsy or curiosity. He was more dangerous than that— calculated, driven by a purpose that transcended even the gods.
He seemed to read my mind again, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. “Ah, that look… It’s the same one you wore during the Great War, Hades. You are the only god who ever looks beyond the surface, the only one who sees the layers underneath. It’s a shame, truly, that we didn’t have someone of your caliber on our side during the Titanomachy.”
The mention of the war sent memories crashing into me, unbidden and raw. Prometheus’ voice grew heavier, more intense. “Shall I tell you why humanity exists? You gods are born with Arcane—a purified form of what we Titans called Primordial energy. Have you the patience for a lesson from an old, chained Titan?”
I shifted my weight, one foot relaxed, the other grounded in readiness. A pair of blue-winged butterflies fluttered lazily across my line of sight, the only sign of life in this desolate place. “I’ve got time,” I said, though my words were more bluff than truth. This was a rare moment—one where I might finally uncover secrets buried for eons.
Prometheus’ smile vanished, replaced by a grave expression. “Good. Then listen closely, because what I’m about to tell you will change everything you think you know.”
I remained silent as he continued, his voice lowering to a near-whisper, as if he feared even the shadows might hear. “Primordial energy is raw, chaotic— a force beyond control. It’s why there were so few Titans. We had to consume our children to sustain ourselves, to stabilize the chaos within. Without that brutal method, the energy would tear us apart.”
His words hung like a storm in the air, thick with tension and ancient bitterness. I struggled to wrap my mind around the grim reality of their existence. Consuming their own offspring to survive—it was madness. But it also made sense of the horrors we had witnessed, the endless cycles of betrayal and bloodshed. I remained silent, my breath shallow as I waited for the rest.
“Then one day,” Prometheus continued, his voice darkening, “a being—something far beyond our understanding—opened the gateway between our realm and this world. Do you care to guess what kind of being it was?”
I swallowed hard, the name forming on my lips even before I could stop myself. “Gaia…”
Prometheus nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming. “Yes, Gaia. The very earth itself. She summoned us, Titans, to overthrow another being even more powerful than we were. She could not fight herself, bound by her own laws. But with her strength added to ours, we became unstoppable. We toppled the deity, and in return, she let us remain on this world, for she cherished all life—even us.”
I stared at him, struggling to comprehend this new version of the story. This wasn’t the Titanomachy I knew. This was a truth that had been hidden, an origin shrouded in myth. Prometheus’ expression darkened, as if recalling a past that haunted him.
“And Cronos,” he said, spitting the name with disdain. “He was one of the strongest among us, clever and ambitious. He wanted more than power—he coveted divinity itself. He won Gaia’s favor, made her his wife, and through her, he found a way to conquer our one great weakness. He alone mastered the Primordial energy, and with Gaia by his side, he became untouchable.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This wasn’t just a different perspective—it was a rewriting of everything I had known. My thoughts raced, struggling to keep up with the implications. Prometheus paused, his gaze falling back to me, piercing once again.
“I watched as Cronos became our king, and we envied him,” Prometheus continued, his voice laced with bitterness. “But then he had *you*—you gods of Olympus, pure and uncontaminated by the chaos of Primordial energy. And he feared you. So, he devoured you, one by one, under the guise of protecting himself. But it was fear, Hades. Fear of what you could become.”
I could hardly breathe, each revelation crashing over me like a tidal wave. “And when Gaia saved the last of us… Zeus,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.
“Exactly,” Prometheus said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Zeus, the one Gaia preserved, her final gambit. And when you children rose against Cronos and overthrew him, I knew the age of Titans was over. The gods would reign. But I had a plan—one that would transcend both Titans and gods.”
I stepped closer, my heart pounding. “You mean…”
Prometheus’ smile returned, wide and manic. “Humanity,” he whispered. “I created humanity not as mere playthings, but as weapons. Beings that would one day surpass us all.”
“But humans are weak,” I protested, disbelief thick in my voice. “How could they possibly—?”
“Not yet,” Prometheus cut me off, his voice swelling with intensity. His aura flared dangerously, filling the air with crackling energy. “But they will be. Do you know why humanity is the perfect weapon against gods?”
My mind raced, but I couldn’t find the answer. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Because they multiply faster?”
Prometheus’ eyes darkened with displeasure, and his aura intensified. The pressure grew unbearable, forcing me to my knees as his chaotic energy threatened to crush me. “No, no, no. Think, Hades. Think harder.”
I gasped for breath, struggling to stay conscious under the weight of his power. My mind scrambled for an answer, but the truth seemed just out of reach. Prometheus leaned closer, his voice cold and unrelenting.
“Win this round, and I’ll give you more than just an answer,” he hissed, his aura now suffocating. “I’ll give you my eye of foresight.”
“Ack!” I screamed, falling completely to the ground, my lungs burning. I was on the verge of collapse, and yet, through the haze of pain and fear, I couldn’t help but wonder why. Why was he so intent on giving me his eye? Why was he so hellbent on me understanding?
I had never felt more trapped, more desperate, than I did in that moment.
If I revive a magic castle I will mass release 10 chapters
