Chapter 12: Prometheus

Desmos.

The spear of death.

The spear that can reverse causality, always aims the heart, can drain life force, and open the gates of underworld and Tartarus.

A divine weapon of great power.

Hades did a few thrusts and swings with the spear, and the space seems to tear apart with each strike.

With a twirl, the spear vanished into the shadows.

"That spear is seriously bad news, master." Said his mount, Campe.

Hades smirked, "And that's just makes it even better."

He stretched his arms, feeling quite sore after his morning training.

Just then, he felt a presence enter his cave. Turning his head, he saw Hera descending down from the stairs he had built(his training ground is underground).

"Hera," Hades greeted, giving a nod. "What brings you here?"

"They are planning on attacking Cronus." Said Hera. "They want you to come up with a plan with them."

"Who? Zeus and Poseidon?" Hades raised an eyebrow, "That's unlike them. I would've thought that they'd just storm through to Mount Orthys with their divine weapons."

Hera let out a small smirk, before it quickly vanished.

"Well," Hades took his clothes that he placed on the side and wore them, "Let's see what plan they came up with."

He turned towards Campe, "Stay here for a bit."

Ccampe nodded, although looking a bit unwilling.

Hades and Hera emerged from the cave into the open air, stepping into the sunlight that bathed the Olympian stronghold.

The winds carried the scent of the mountain, and in the distance, they could hear the echoes of their siblings' voices.

As they approached, they saw Zeus standing in the center, arms crossed, lightning crackling faintly around him. Poseidon leaned against his trident, a confident smirk on his face.

Demeter and Hestia stood nearby, listening intently.

"You're late," Poseidon teased, his emerald-green eyes gleaming. "Too busy admiring your new toy?"

Hades scoffed, his expression calm. "Unlike you, I actually test my weapon before running into battle."

Poseidon rolled his eyes but let it go as Metis, the consort of Zeus, spoke up.

"We need a plan," she said. "Cronus side is powerful. Atlas, Hyperion, Iapetus, Coeus, and Crius are standing guard over Mount Othrys. Each of them commands a temple at the four cardinal points, with Atlas guarding the main gate of Cronus Temple."

"That's not including their children," Hera added. "Many of the Titans' offspring will fight for Cronus."

Even with the Cyclopes, the Hecatoncheires, and Prometheus on their side, they were still heavily outnumbered.

The weight of the war pressed down on them.

It was then that a soft yet firm voice spoke from the side.

"You will not fight alone."

The Olympians turned to see their mother, Rhea, standing gracefully, her presence exuding warmth and authority.

"Themis has pledged her aid," Rhea continued, stepping closer. "She knows Cronus is doomed, and she will not oppose fate."

At her words, Zeus's expression eased slightly. "That's good, but still not enough."

Metis stepped forward. "We must outmaneuver them, not just overpower them."

A silence fell over the group. Even with Themis and Prometheus, the numbers still leaned heavily in Cronus' favor.

Then, Hades spoke.

"The gods of the Underworld will aid us."

Everyone turned to him.

"Hecate, Styx, Lethe, and others," he continued. "They are not Titans, nor are they Olympians, but they are gods. They owe their allegiance to the natural order of things, not to Cronus. And they will fight."

Zeus's blue eyes locked onto Hades'. "Are you sure?"

Hades gave a small, knowing smirk. "They will follow me."

At Hades' words, the Olympians exchanged glances. For the first time since they had gathered, the overwhelming weight of the coming battle seemed lighter.

Poseidon was the first to break the silence, grinning. "Now that's more like it! With the Underworld gods on our side, we might actually stand a chance."

Demeter, however, frowned. "Even so, our numbers are still smaller. Hyperion alone is a nightmare to face, and Iapetus is a warrior unlike any other."

Metis nodded in agreement. "Even if we match their strength, we cannot fight a battle of attrition. They will wear us down."

Hades glanced at her. "Then we don't fight a battle of attrition."

Metis tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Hades explained. "Instead of trying to overwhelm them, we target their leaders. If we remove Cronus' strongest allies quickly, the rest will crumble."

Hera's eyes narrowed. "Easier said than done. Each of them has their own domain, their own power."

"Which is why we don't face them head-on," Hades added. "We take them down before they realize what's happening."

His plan was simple.

First, have the most destructive god of all of them such as Hades and Poseidon focus on a narrow front, and use their power to quickly penetrate their enemy's defenses.

Other gods such as Zeus would provide air support to throw lightning down to bomb key objectives.

Any history lovers would know that this strategy is similar to Blitzkrieg.

A strategy so successful that even though almost a century have passed, some modern military training manuals still incorporate some of its designs.

"We'll end this war swiftly, and thoroughly." Declared Hades.

The Titanomachy lasted for ten years according to the myths. But Hades absolutely has no interest on prolonging the war.

He'll end this, as swiftly as possible.

****

Prometheus, the Titan of Forethought.

He's an ultimate trickster, a man whose loyalty is in victory. He can lie as easily as breathing, and can trick even the smartest of gods.

His authority over foresight allows him to predict that the Olympians would win the war.

So to secure his own safety and influence in the new Olympian regime, he chose to abandon the titans and join the winning side.

Unlike Themis, the Titan of Justice, who joined Zeus because she wanted to end the tyranny of Cronus, Prometheus simply wanted to survive.

Currently, he was on his temple, humming a tune as he observed the world beneath him.

Prometheus is a tall man, standing at 8ft in height, with a slender build covered by a white chiton. He has a fiery red hair, and red eyes, shining in mischievous glint.

He was sitting cross legged on the floor, his head resting on his right hand, while his left hand on his left leg.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself."

A deep, rumbling voice cut through the tranquil air of the temple.

Prometheus didn't even flinch. His red eyes flickered toward the entrance as his lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Ah, dear brother, what a rare honor," he mused, his voice carrying a lazy amusement.

Atlas stood at the threshold, a towering figure draped in bronze armor. His dark eyes held no warmth as he gazed down at his sibling.

The weight of the sky itself seemed to press down upon him, yet he remained unwavering, his presence like an immovable mountain.

Prometheus stretched his arms and yawned, unbothered. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Atlas? Surely, you didn't come all this way just to admire the view with me?"

Atlas remained silent for a moment, then stepped forward, his heavy footsteps echoing in the chamber.

"I have no time for your games, Prometheus," he said coldly. "Tell me... are the rumors true?"

Prometheus tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Rumors? Oh, you must be more specific, dear brother. There are so many."

Atlas' patience wore thin. "Are you a traitor?"

The question hung between them like a drawn blade.

Prometheus exhaled a small laugh before gracefully rising to his feet. He turned fully to face his brother, the ever-present smirk never leaving his lips. Slowly, he stepped closer, standing just a few feet away.

"So what if I am?" he finally answered, his tone light, almost playful.

Atlas' expression hardened, his jaw tightening. "Then I will kill you."

The air crackled with tension.

A moment later, their auras exploded outward.

The entire temple trembled under their power.

Atlas' presence was like the weight of the heavens itself crashing down—an unstoppable force pressing against reality, making the very atmosphere suffocating. The sky outside darkened, as if the world itself bent under his authority.

Prometheus, however, was unfazed. His own aura erupted in response, a burning heat that surged from the depths of the earth. The ground beneath them cracked as fiery veins of molten lava pulsed through the stone, the air thick with heat and mischief.

The clash of their powers sent shockwaves across the land, splitting the clouds and making the very stars tremble.

And then, as quickly as it began, it stopped.

Both brothers knew the consequences of their battle—Gaia would not tolerate such recklessness.

Atlas withdrew first, his eyes filled with cold fury. "This is your final warning, Prometheus. If I see you standing against us, I will not hesitate."

Prometheus chuckled, brushing imaginary dust off his chiton. "Oh, Atlas, you wound me. Do you really think so poorly pf your brother? You talk as if I'm some unloyal and fickle guy."

Atlas didn't respond. He turned and left, the air still heavy with unspoken threats.

Prometheus, still smiling, watched his brother go, utterly unbothered.

He muttered to himself, his red eyes glinting. "Now, that was fun."

Then, he returned to humming, as if nothing had happened at all.