I, Prometheus

Their search for Prometheus fell short of climactic, moreover, less perilous than the trip to the Moirai's lair. It didn't take too much divine tracking skills either, just a simple length of GPS thread courtesy of the woods' mystical landladies.

When they arrived, they found the titan sitting at the edge of a cliff, beyond him the sprawling waters that was Poseidon's domain. The sky there was different, honestly calm and free of Zeus' surveillance.

"So it's come at last, huh?" Prometheus said as the gods neared him. "The end of another era." He looked just as diminished as the stories go, the wounds suffered from his sentence left partly unhealed. He was unkempt in all angles, and if the gods didn't know any better, he could have been just another vagabond giant.

"And here I thought you'd be more excited." Hades joined his sightseeing. "...Given everything you've gone through."

Prometheus gave the god a most rebellious snort. It hardly fitted his constitution, but then again, this was one of the few living beings with the gall to slap Olympus in the face. "Once again I must pick a side, only this time it does not concern me."

"You already did that when you stole fire from Olympus," Poseidon chimed in. "And it does concern you. For now you have to see it through—get Zeus back for your torment."

"Very much like what you're doing now, Poseidon?" The titan continued his roll. "If you fail though, with Troy ruined, what walls do you think Zeus will have you rebuild? Mayhap the ones this war will trample?"

This last comment struck a serious nerve, enough for the sea god to brandish his trident. Below them the waters began to boil, and they could feel how seething tides readied beneath the surface. Hades urged his brother to calm down, warning him that any display of power might attract unwanted attention—and company.

Prometheus then turned to Ginrius, who looked unsure how to even approach him. "You can relax, young one, I am not in any position to reject you. I owe my continued existence to the Moirai, and if they allowed you this much progress, I can only assume that they chose to aid you. But if you're willing to part with it, will you indulge me on how you got mixed up in all this?" He pricked the elder gods with his glare once more.

Ginrius relayed his story. Before he was even halfway done, Prometheus got up to do some stretching. For a moment, as he looked into Ginrius' eyes, they thought he was going to shed some, but stopped with dewy eyes and a pat at the godsmith's shoulder. "Well, if there's anyone who knows how impossible our family is, it would be yours truly. I'll happily join in this little uprising of yours, hopeless though it may be."

"Then I suggest you prepare quickly," Hades told the titan. "The night is expiring and Othrys is a long way off. We may have to face intermissions going forward."

"Spare me, Lord Hades," Prometheus said, now grinning. "All this time, I had nothing else to do but prepare. Do the honors?"

With that, Poseidon gestured towards his sea, and the party took a headlong dive back to its depths.

***

Resurfacing near the titan fortress, the party was relieved to discover no signs of Zeus. But there was a catch. There's always a catch: The king of the gods had sprinkled the area with eleven herbs and hordes of monsters.

Under any circumstance, these creatures were nothing but fodder to any one of them, yet the company knew better; the creatures were placed there to serve more as tripwire than actual defenses, warning Zeus of any unannounced visit. He did somewhat read into their plan after all.

If they were detected, a head-on collision cannot be avoided. The clash of the gods would start and end there—with extreme ramifications. While the Cronkris could have proven very useful in this situation, its untested and overpowering nature made it riskier than beneficial to use. In the end, a consensus was formed to leave the weapon out of the equation. Zeus would sense its presence if they so much as cut a log with it, and they were better off marching straight to Olympus if that happened.

Because of this, the only option was for Ginrius and Prometheus to sneak in on their own, without using their powers, and but minimal assistance from their otherwise invincible entourage. With Apollo's dawn fast approaching, they needed another plan to serve this end, and they needed it quick.

Since any form of magic was out—including their convenient shapeshifting ability—they instead lured two of the grazing monsters for slaughter, the hide and blood of which they used to fashion a pair of disguises. Hating not just the smell but the overall feel of it, Ginrius broke the defensive line with Prometheus, the perimeter monsters none the wiser.

As the young god entered the stronghold's gates, he heard Hades' voice echo in his mind. "Remember, Gaea's altar is within the lonesome grove. It should be easy to find."

If the shrine was a breeze to locate, wouldn't Zeus see them just as easy? Wartime or not, divine kings are all kinds of paranoid; they were lucky to even get this far without getting spotted. Of course Hades' private message also hinted mistrust at Prometheus, the one guy who was supposed to watch his back. So Ginrius took the literal mental note to heart, thinking, and most definitely voicing out on how the setup sucked.