Brothers Clash

Dark clouds swirled over the ruined hills at the edge of the world, where stone cracked under the weight of forgotten battles. The entrance to the underworld stood like a wound in the land—wide, jagged, and humming with a deathless silence.

Atlas stood at its mouth.

Massive. Unmoving.

His armor was forged from the crust of the earth, runes etched into the plates pulsing faintly with ancient might. The air around him shimmered—not with heat, but with pressure. The weight he carried wasn't just physical—it was cosmic. The burden of holding up the sky had shaped him into something terrifying.

He raised one hand, fingers outstretched toward his soldiers—Titan enforcers armored in volcanic iron and wielding spears of crystallized time.

"Cover all exits," Atlas growled, his voice like tectonic plates grinding. "When those bastards crawl out, you end them immediately."

The ground trembled under his boots.

The Titans fanned out, taking positions. Eyes glowing. Blades ready.

Silence.

Then—

A soft laugh from behind the broken pillars near the slope.

Atlas turned his head slowly.

Two figures stepped into the dying light.

Prometheus walked calmly, arms folded. His hair was short and dark, his expression cool—almost amused. His cloak billowed lazily in the wind, but the flame in his eyes was far from lazy.

Beside him, Epimetheus strolled forward with a lazy smirk and a crooked blade across his shoulder. A little shorter than his brother, messier, but with the same glint of danger under his grin.

"Well, isn't this dramatic?" Prometheus said, surveying the scene. "Soldiers stationed like statues, the gate surrounded. You waiting for ghosts or something?"

Atlas narrowed his eyes.

"Prometheus. Traitor."

"I prefer 'visionary.'" Prometheus shrugged.

"And Epimetheus," Atlas sneered, "I thought you'd be too stupid to pick a side."

Epimetheus snorted. "Funny. I was gonna say the same about you."

Atlas took a step forward, and the stone beneath cracked.

"I won't warn you again. Move aside or be crushed."

Prometheus's eyes lit up, soft flames dancing across his fingertips. "Crushed? No. Tested? Definitely."

In one swift motion, Atlas hurled his hand forward—sending a shockwave through the air like a thunderclap.

The battle began.

—The Fight—

Atlas lunged forward like a mountain given motion, fist cocked, eyes blazing. His knuckles glowed with spatial gravity—the same force he once used to bear the heavens. One hit, and the earth itself buckled.

Prometheus slid backward, trails of fire lighting beneath his boots as he moved. He raised both arms, summoning twin circles of blazing energy that caught Atlas's strike mid-air—heat and force clashing like twin storms.

Epimetheus was already in motion. He darted between Titan soldiers like a streak of chaos, blade swinging low. With a yell, he flipped over a spear-thrust and slashed downward—cutting through a soldier's knee joint, toppling the giant with a howl.

"You guys got slower since the last century!" Epimetheus laughed, dodging another swing. "Or maybe I got cooler!"

A blast of golden flame erupted behind him—Prometheus, with a hand pointed straight at the ground. Pillars of flame burst upward, throwing three Titan guards into the air.

"Focus, Epi!" Prometheus shouted.

"I am focused!" Epimetheus called back, ducking a massive hammer and stabbing upward into a Titan's ribs. "Focused on ruining their day!"

Atlas roared and slammed both fists into the ground.

A shockwave exploded outward. Stone shattered, wind howled, the battlefield shook like it wanted to break apart. Both brothers were sent flying, but Prometheus twisted in mid-air, landing in a crouch, sliding across molten cracks.

He raised his hand—

A blazing spear of flame appeared.

Prometheus hurled it at Atlas.

Atlas raised a stone wall, the spear collided and burst into a dome of fire. The flash lit up the entire field, casting giant shadows that danced like angry spirits.

But Atlas didn't wait.

He leapt through the flames, right fist cocked back—glowing with the gravitational pull of the stars.

Prometheus met him mid-air.

BOOM!!

A shockwave tore through the sky. The clouds above were shredded in an instant, revealing a hole of blinding light.

Atlas and Prometheus were locked—punch against punch, flame against force.

Prometheus gritted his teeth. "You think just because you are strong you understand the weight of consequence?"

Atlas growled. "You think fire makes you a god?"

With a roar, he slammed Prometheus into the mountain wall.

The cliff cracked.

Prometheus coughed blood—but he smiled.

"I'm not done yet."

Flames surged from his body in all directions.

The wall behind him exploded.

Prometheus flew out of the smoke with a trail of living fire wrapping around his body—an aura of pure invention, raw and relentless.

Below, Epimetheus had stolen a Titan's own hammer and was using it to send his enemies flying like broken toys.

He smashed one soldier across the chest, then spun around to crush another's shoulder with a shout. The hammer vibrated with chaotic energy—it fed on unpredictability, just like him.

"You okay up there, bro?!" he shouted mid-swing.

Prometheus twisted mid-flight, caught Atlas's wrist, and flipped over him in one clean arc—landing behind with a blast of heat.

"Working on it!"

Atlas turned to strike again—but something shifted.

Prometheus's flames flickered blue.

The fire condensed.

Focused.

He raised both hands.

"Solar Forge: Eternal Spark!"

A beam of condensed flame burst out from his palms, straight into Atlas's chest. The force sent the Titan crashing backward into the hill, dust and debris flying.

But even then—Atlas rose.

Bruised. Burned.

Still raging.

"You can't stop me," he snarled. "I am the bearer of the sky."

Epimetheus flipped down beside his brother.

He smirked.

Prometheus raised a brow.

"Ready?"

"Always."

They both charged.

Prometheus let out a battle cry, flames roaring behind him.

Epimetheus grinned wildly, blade dancing with red sparks.

Atlas met them head-on.

The clash lit the whole battlefield in red and gold.

Sparks flew. Stone melted. Roars echoed like thunder. The two brothers moved like lightning, fire, and madness combined—one a calculated storm, the other pure chaos with a blade.

Titan soldiers tried to intervene—but were overwhelmed.

Epimetheus kicked one into a crater with a laugh.

Prometheus incinerated two more with a flick of his wrist.

And then—both together.

Prometheus shouted, "Twin Spark!"

Epimetheus roared, "Wild Bolt!"

Their combined attack—spiraling flame and chaotic lightning—crashed into Atlas and threw him backward with a thunderous crash.

The ground cracked under his weight. Smoke covered the sky.

Silence.

The battlefield lay broken.

Atlas didn't rise.

His soldiers, seeing their commander defeated, began to retreat.

Prometheus and Epimetheus stood back to back, catching their breath.

Prometheus wiped sweat from his brow. "We did it."

Epimetheus grinned. "That… was awesome."

Then, he winced. "Also, I think I broke my shoulder."

Prometheus chuckled. "Told you not to steal hammers."

The wind changed.

The entrance to the underworld pulsed again.

Something was coming.

Something divine.

They turned, ready to greet their allies.