Chapter 598: When Titans Fall
Prometheus.
One of the Titans of the Olympus Universe.
He was known as the lesser Titan of Fire—yet his power was anything but small. He was one of the most powerful Deities of Olympus, with powers extending across the laws of fire, blacksmithing, and time itself.
Indeed, time.
Prometheus wielded the rare gift of foresight, a power that had shaped the fate of countless heroes and gods.
It was he who had prophesied the birth of the mighty hero Achilles, as well as many other epoch-defining events in the history of Olympus.
Though not primarily a warrior, Prometheus was far from defenceless.
His true strength lay in his mastery over fire which enhanced his enhanced his skill as a craftsman. His abilities didn’t end there; Prometheus commanded Authority over a multitude of laws.
Having lived for so long, Prometheus was a repository of knowledge, his mind a vast labyrinth of wisdom accumulated through hundreds of millennia.
Despite his lack of focus on combat, he had no difficulty besting certain gods and deities in battle, should the need arise.
However, the current focus was not on Prometheus’ combat power but on his foresight ability.
His foresight gave him a rare gift—the ability to perceive threats before they became reality. Whether he was aware of impending danger or not, his foresight would stir, warning him of threats with an unmistakable clarity.
It was this foresight of his that allowed him to give his prophecies.
Yet Prometheus, in all his wisdom, had not foreseen this.
He had not foreseen the dire situation now unfolding before him.
At this moment, even his foresight lay silent, blocked by an external force he could not understand.
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In the quiet vastness of space, a star suddenly erupted into a supernova with powerful intensity.
A wave of radiant light exploded outward, scorching planets and erasing moons from existence in a single, cataclysmic instant. The star’s immense energy rippled out, obliterating everything within its reach, a cosmic inferno consuming all in its path.
And then, as the searing light reached its peak, the form of an immense figure emerged from the explosion—a colossal, humanoid Titan with a body larger than entire planets.
Prometheus, his limbs cloaked in esoteric fire, and his eyes glowing like twin suns, flew uncontrollably through the wreckage of the solar system.
His body hurtled across light years and bashed into the young star of the neighbouring solar system.
As he crashed onto its burning surface, a blast of stellar energy radiated out, waves of molten heat washing over his colossal form.
Then, without warning, a force collided with his stomach—one sharp, concentrated blow—and sent him hurtling deep through the star’s core.
Another nova explosion ripped through space as Prometheus was slammed deep into the star, a devastating burst of light and energy engulfing the nearby planets.
Blood spilled from his lips and he breathed heavily as he grabbed a nearby planet and used it to steady himself.
Recovering his stance, he looked down and saw his attacker—a figure that seemed diminutive in comparison to his enormity.
Prometheus was capable of besting certain combat gods with his machinery, special tools, and meticulously crafted artifacts.
Yet, there were a select few he could never hope to defeat, even when pooling all his power into one force.
The figure standing before him now was one of those individuals.
The Great Hero of Olympus.
The strongest of the Heroes who had ascended the realms and became an existence on par with the twelve Olympians.
He was the son of Zeus and the embodiment of Hera’s glory.
He was Hercules.
The god hero was adorned in the skin of the Nemean Lion, its hide draped over his shoulders. His muscled chest was bare and his grip firm around a giant club that appeared deceptively ordinary.
But Prometheus knew better—Hercules’ weapon was infused with his own Unique Authority, transforming it into an artifact that could shatter planets and split stars with a single strike.
Hercules cut through space at light speed and Prometheus was barely able to raise his massive arm to defend himself. However, Hercules ducked under it with lightning-fast reflexes and swung his club into Prometheus’s side.
The impact reverberated through space, bending light as the soundless shockwave tore through nearby celestial bodies. One uninhabited planet shattered upon the force of the collision, its debris scattering like grains of sand.
Prometheus retaliated, casting fire from his palm, a torrent of white-hot flames aimed at Hercules. But the hero moved faster than the flames, launching himself over them and bringing his club down on Prometheus’s shoulder with crushing force.
The Titan staggered, his giant frame unable to withstand the barrage of blows. Another strike from Hercules, this time to Prometheus’s chest, sent him careening backwards, through an asteroid belt that disintegrated upon contact with his body.
Despite Prometheus’s millennia of experience, despite the power of a Titan of his rank, Hercules proved to be his superior.
Blow after blow landed on his body, each strike driving the Titan back, and sending blood spurting through the chaotic void.
Finally, as Prometheus drifted, weakened, and beaten, Hercules raised his club high, imbuing it with his Unique Authority.
He unleashed one final, devastating swing that sent Prometheus sprawling through space, the shockwave scattering fragments of shattered planets across the void.
Having defeated Prometheus, Hercules silently hung his club at his back and just then, the space around them seemed to grow brighter.
Another presence approached. That of an existence that Prometheus had already expected was nearby.
Hercules was the Great Hero of Olympus.
He was not an existence that moved for battle unless this person willed it.
Prometheus looked up, a curse escaping his lips as he recognized the figure materializing before him.
"Zeus, you bastard!!!"
The god King of Olympus had appeared.
Zeus ignored Prometheus’s shouted curse, his expression cold and unmoved. Raising his hand, Zeus released a surge of divinity that wrapped around Prometheus’s massive form, forcefully compressing him until his size dwindled.
He had employed a technique Titans used to shrink their bodies so they could walk on normal planets.
Now then, why did Zeus know a Titan body shrinking technique? It was pretty obvious why.
Zeus’s father, Kronos, was a Titan himself.
The question had arisen before: how could a Titan like Kronos father children who were gods?
It wasn’t too hard when one thought about the fact that Kronos’ mother, Gaia, was a goddess and this thing called atavism existed.
So, although Zeus, Hades, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, and Hestia were gods, they carried Titan blood, able to assume Titan forms if they wished—though they rarely chose to.
Now, Zeus had shrunk Prometheus down, reducing him to a more manageable size of around two metres tall.
He used his Authority as the Master of Olympus and transported Prometheus to an uninhabited planet, binding him between two towering mountains with unbreakable chains.
On his knees, Prometheus seethed with rage, glaring up at Zeus and cursing him in every ancient tongue he knew.
But Zeus did not pay him any mind, completely unbothered by Prometheus’s fury. Instead, he looked at a seemingly empty space and spoke.
"Will this suffice?"
And a foreign voice responded to him.
"Yes, this will do perfectly."
Prometheus’s eyes widened in shock as the realization dawned.
He had wondered why his foresight had failed to warn him of Hercules’ approach, why he hadn’t been able to tap into his time powers during their battle.
The answer was simple—someone with a stronger Authority over time had blocked his powers.
But Prometheus could not understand how.
In all of Olympus, there was no being who was better than him at time manipulation. At the very least, since Kronos wasn’t exactly around anymore, Prometheus could boast to be the best.
There were other Deities in Olympus who were time manipulators, but they would need to combine their Authorities together to be able to block his access to the law and seal his Authority.
No singular person could stop him in Olympus, and Prometheus knew that it wasn’t a combination of Authorities that had stopped him.
He could tell that it was his singular force that had been blocking his Authority.
And now that force had revealed themselves.
At the sight of this person, Prometheus understood that he had been narrow-minded in his manner of thinking. He had grown complacent as he had only dealt with Olympian matters for millennia.
No Time Authority in Olympus could stop Prometheus’ Authority—that was a fact.
But what about outside Olympus?
As he had been attacked by Hercules, Prometheus had assumed his conspirator was Olympian as well, but that was a wrong line of thought.
Stepping into view was a man with slightly pointed ears and white skin.
The leader of the Aedra. The king of the Daedric gods. Chief deity of the Nine Divines of Oblivion.
The strongest god-king of time in the known Universal Sea.
Alkosh.
The moment Alkosh stepped forward, Prometheus felt a chill run through him, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Zeus was consorting with Alkosh.
The King of Olympus, joining forces with the Daedric god-king?
Prometheus’s mind raced.
Why would Zeus align himself with an outsider? And what could they possibly want with him?
But Zeus and Alkosh paid him no mind, continuing their exchange as though Prometheus were nothing more than a bystander to whatever they were up to.
