Revenge on Athena

In Greek mythology, there was a god who regarded all humanity as his children.

Even when faced with the torment of being chained and having his liver devoured daily, only for it to regenerate each night, he endured this suffering and humiliation for the sake of humanity, choosing to betray the gods for the sake of his children.

This god..titan was called Prometheus, meaning, forethought.

In ancient Greek myth, this god of fire was the one, who defied the Olympian gods by taking fire from them and giving it to humanity in the form of technology, knowledge and, more generally, civilization, only to get eternal torment for his transgression.

After that, Prometheus was bound to a rock, and an eagle—the emblem of Zeus—was sent to eat his liver, which would then grow back overnight, only to be eaten again the next day in an ongoing cycle.

And so, when Pegasus, with his sacred wings spread wide, carried the dark-haired, green-eyed boy away from the ancient temple of the Fates to the heights of Mount Caucasus, the boy found himself before this legendary god.

Chained by unbreakable links forged by Hephaestus, the god of craft, Prometheus remained bound, yet even in his captivity, there was no surprise in his eyes as he gazed at the boy sitting atop Pegasus.

With a weathered but warm smile, Prometheus spoke in a voice that was both ancient and raspy, "You've finally arrived, child."

There was no trace of shock in his expression as he looked at the boy.

He had known this moment would come, his foresight unwavering.

And then, in his gravelly voice, Prometheus uttered words that stirred Promise deeply.

"I have been watching you for a long time. Before you began to change fate, before the goddesses laid their eyes upon you, before you even became the student of Chiron, the wise centaur, and stepped into this world."

"Because, child, I have always been waiting for this meeting with you."

Hearing Prometheus's words, Promise was taken aback, gazing at the frail, weathered god before him, his body worn by years of torment.

He was about to speak when his eyes met Prometheus's—eyes that remained brilliant and filled with a wisdom that shone through despite the suffering he endured.

In that instant, all of Promise's doubts and confusion vanished.

Because he recognized those eyes, which have been too familiar to him—they were the same as goddess of wisdom, Athena's, a symbol of absolute wisdom.

"I know why you've come to seek me," Prometheus said, his voice steady. "Go to the edge of the ocean. I've already told Pegasus where Thetis, the wise sea goddess, resides, so it will lead you to the gentle and wise sea goddess."

Hearing this, Promise subconsciously glanced down at Pegasus, who nodded in confirmation.

Everything Prometheus said was true.

"And You don't need to worry, my child," Prometheus added with a strained smile, "I won't reveal your greatest secret to anyone."

And then without waiting for Promise to respond, the god forced a smile with difficulty and continued in a hoarse voice:

"Because the gods who love you won't care about such things.

The only one who might is the goddess of wisdom herself."

"Athena…?" Promise's confusion deepened. Why would Athena care about that?

Seeing his puzzled expression, Prometheus chuckled softly. "That was the oath you made with her, your very first oath. She's guiding you to become the greatest hero of this era, preparing for you the grandest finale."

"But, child," Prometheus said, his eyes softening, "you must already know, deep in your heart, that this goddess, who is as dazzling as a pearl, loves you so much."

"So, while she will not break the oath between you, how could she ever bear to see you truly hurt?"

With those words, Prometheus fell silent, refusing to answer further questions, no matter how much the latter prodded, he did not speak.

"I find that I'm getting more and more disgusted with you Riddlers lately," Promise muttered, in a complaining tone.

Despite it being their first meeting, he couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness with this gentle god who cared so deeply for humanity, treating them as his children

"But, if you know so much,"

Promise said, looking at Prometheus in confusion, after all, the other person was Athena,

"Does she really not know everything?"

Prometheus gave a dry chuckle in response. "The crystal ball in the hand of the goddess of fate… Since the moment she saw you, you've been held within it."

Hearing this, Promise was stunned for a moment, then couldn't help laughing again as he said,

"She's really quite the little tsundere goddess, isn't she?"

Prometheus's smile deepened, but before Promise didn't drift too far into his thoughts, and asked the inevitable question.

"So, noble Prometheus, how can I free you?"

"This was originally Hercules's task, but since he has already completed his journey and claimed the Golden Apple, that fate has fallen to me, hasn't it?"

Hearing his words, Prometheus did not show any signs of embarrassment, and nodded gently, saying. "Once this ordeal is over, I will be freed. That is one of the reasons the Fates sent you to me."

"Then, how can I change the fate of my teacher Chiron?"

"Hestia, the goddess of the hearth, can provide you with the sacred fire of the divine realm," Prometheus replied without hesitation. "It will prevent the regrowth of the Hydra's nine heads."

After he finished speaking, he looked at the boy, whose lips moved slightly, obviously wanting to continue asking, and cut him off with a weak smile, speaking in a hoarse voice.

"That's enough, child. If I reveal any more, the goddess of wisdom might grow displeased with me. After all, she is the goddess who truly guides you."

"But she keeps playing these riddles with me!" Promise curled his lips in dissatisfaction, looking at the god in front of him who, like Athena, had eyes that represented absolute wisdom.

After a moment of thought, his face lit up with an idea, and he smiled mischievously. "One last question, truly the last...Noble Prometheus, how do you think, I should seek my revenge on the goddess of wisdom?"

At the mention of the word revenge, Prometheus paused.

He looked at the boy standing before him, whose eyes gleamed with excitement and eagerness to try.

"Child, it would be best if you spent less time with Hermes," Prometheus said with a chuckle, unable to resist.

If Hermes were here, he would probably be bewildered—and maybe even feel a little wronged.

"As for revenge…" Prometheus trailed off, considering the boy's expectant face.

"As for revenge..."

While speaking, Prometheus paused, looking at the boy in front him, whose face was filled with eager anticipation and couldn't help but recall the beginnings of this young mortal.

Prometheus had said it before, and it wasn't a lie—he had always been watching Promise.

From the very moment the boy had stepped into the world, he had observed his journey, his struggles, and his growth.

As Promise made his way down the mountain, Prometheus, just like Chiron and the other heroes before him, had always been watching over the boy, unable to shake the worry he felt for him.

Now, at this moment, seeing the boy before him, sitting atop the pure and majestic Pegasus, having undergone so many transformations and trials, Prometheus couldn't help but feel a bit dazed.

"I… don't know either."

Snapping back to reality, he told his first-ever lie to a human.

Then, with a soft smile, Prometheus watched as Pegasus spread its silver wings, carrying the delicate boy once more into the sky, with the words of the gods in his heart.

"Revenge, huh..." Prometheus chuckled faintly. "My Child, do you realize, from the moment you met her, when your presence appeared in front of her golden eyes, and you offered her your very first painting; the one sealed by the vow—that very moment, you have already exacted your revenge on the flawless goddess."

For when you reach the end, when the final painting is completed, and the vow is fulfilled, that moment will be her ultimate defeat—the revenge she least wanted to see!

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