Prometheus had always been self-aware.
He was the god of wisdom.
And with that!
His wisdom and intelligence didn't just reflect his intellect, but also his emotional intelligence. The matter of Metis's two children was not something he should get involved in.
If!
Prometheus were to carelessly intervene, the result, no matter what, would be inevitable. His role was merely to present the facts and outline the situation. Whether they could accept it or not was up to them.
If they couldn't accept it?
Then...
In the moments when Metis couldn't see him, a sharp glint flashed in Prometheus's eyes. Since he had already chosen to support Abel, he would show no mercy. He would not hesitate in his actions.
Therefore,
at times,
Zeus's wariness of Prometheus was no joke. Some of Prometheus's actions were indeed ruthless, making him a figure deserving of caution.
However!
Even so, what could anyone do about it? Prometheus was absolutely determined, and he would never slacken his efforts. Even if others feared him, he had to follow through on his decisions.
"Sigh…"
Metis let out a soft sigh and said quietly, "Prometheus, go handle the other matters first. Once everything is resolved, and if the outcome remains the same, then I will proceed accordingly."
Prometheus respectfully bowed and retreated.
Metis, gently stroking her abdomen, murmured, "Originally, none of this should have happened. That things have come to this... It truly leaves me at a loss. Must I go through the same fate as the Titan Queen?"
Metis shook her head slowly, filled with helplessness. Many things, despite being inevitable, offered no solutions.
Because!
The facts were right in front of her. What could she do? There was simply no way to deal with them!
"Sigh…"
Once again, Metis let out a sigh of resignation. Everything had already been set in motion.
As Prometheus left, he dispelled his concealment, making everything appear as though nothing had ever happened.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, the cold glint returning to them, and spoke in a soft yet steady voice: "Everything is in place. So, the next result…"
Prometheus shook his head, saying no more.
It was fated.
Prometheus knew that to fulfill his inner ambitions and ideals, he had to act decisively.
To be completely honest!
It wasn't surprising that Zeus found Prometheus hard to trust. No matter who it was, they would likely have trouble fully trusting him.
Of course,
Prometheus understood this very well. He knew that complete trust in him was impossible.
His actions alone were problematic enough. Yet, at the same time, everything Prometheus did brought undeniable benefits.
What Prometheus needed wasn't trust, but the freedom to act unhindered, without interference. That's all he required.
This was the essence of what Prometheus sought!
In fact,
Poseidon would have been a better match for Prometheus.
Poseidon had no emotions; he was entirely cold and calculating. To him, only absolute benefits mattered.
As long as the benefits were sufficient, Poseidon could sacrifice anything. That was his nature. But for Prometheus, he had chosen Zeus, and now to leave?
That was no longer an option!
Since there was no turning back, the only path forward was to continue down this road to the bitter end. Sometimes, once a choice is made, it's too late for regrets.
If!
Prometheus had aligned with Poseidon, even Hades would have needed to be on high alert. One without emotions, but completely rational, combined with someone willing to do anything—such a duo would be far too dangerous.
However!
Many things don't work out with "what ifs."
...
Sparta stood at the edge of a cliff, having walked through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. He gazed out into the distance with a calm expression.
On this long campaign, over 200 years had passed. How many lives had he taken? How many had his wars destroyed? How many had he killed? How much devastation had he wrought?
He couldn't remember!
Sparta no longer kept count. He had become a butcher with bloodstained hands.
But!
To Sparta, none of this mattered. He remained endlessly calm throughout. His mission was to bring death and war.
That was his purpose.
As for the curses and hatred directed at him?
In Sparta's eyes, these were meaningless!
Sparta cared nothing for these things. His mission was what mattered; the rest was inconsequential.
Curses?
Hatred?
Malice?
Who cares!
Bring it on!
Everything could be directed at him, but to Sparta, it was meaningless. He feared nothing. His confidence and madness came from deep within.
"My King!"
At this moment, a guard approached. His entire body radiated bloodthirsty intent, and he exuded a terrifying aura.
He walked step by step, kneeling on one knee and said, "The area has been cleared! Shall we continue our campaign?"
Sparta, snapping out of his thoughts, replied calmly, "Begin! We will march further, continuing our conquest. This is the honor we offer to the Lord of the Underworld! This is the glory of Sparta!"
"Roar!"
"Roar!"
The response was a deafening chorus of roars and howls. Countless warriors stepped forward, their voices filled with frenzy.
Their eyes gleamed with sharp determination, devoid of fear, exuding endless calm.
The death they brought was all for the sake of their glory and their mission!!!
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