Chapter 23: Going Forward

“Just because I’m moving ahead with my life doesn’t mean I’m letting go of everything that came before. That was a hard lesson to learn ... You’re so focused on what’s ahead that you’re starting to cut out the parts of your past that made you who you are ... If you turn your back on all the experiences that made you strong and compassionate because they hurt ... I’m afraid that, one day, everything you learned ... will have been for nothing.”

— Martha Kent (as portrayed by Annette O’Toole), Smallville Season 10, Episode 21: “Finale” (Part 1), originally aired May 13, 2011, directed by Greg Beeman & Kevin G. Fair, written by Al Septien & Turi Meyer, based on Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, with characters from Jack Kirby’s Fourth World, and developed for television by Alfred Gough & Miles Millar, with series concept by Tim McCanlies.

The Underworld was hushed. That seemed unusual Prometheus’ analysis when he walked through the obsidian corridors of the Realm of the Dead. He did not look for the Titans, nor for the Ruler of the Realm.

For this task, Prometheus walked by himself. Above on Olympus, Zeus was surely getting his oaths from his children after punishing his opponents. On one hand, Prometheus believed Zeus had a right to punish Hera, Hestia, Poseidon, Apollo, and Athena, but to punish every child who did nothing wrong was immoral to him.

While maybe removing Zeus from power was not the most important part of the functions of Olympus, it might still prove to be necessary.

Prometheus was of two minds. On one hand, Zeus was justified in most of his reactions because of the actions of Athena. On the other, he always needed to be reigned in. Prometheus could not do this for all of eternity. He was not sure what needed to be done, but there was some part in this design of Olympus that needed to change.

The shades kept their distance from this titan wrapped in thought.

The path narrowed until it ended in a vast cavern of black and silver stone. At its center stood an oval gate. The swirling darkness was its only content. He could see where Nyx got her appearance for the night sky.

A portal to the Realm of Chaos was rare. Some might exist in the Mortal Realm, but Prometheus did not know where to find them. They were far more common in the Underworld. As they should be by Prometheus’ estimation. The Underworld had Nyx, Erebus, and Tartarus in one large Realm. Three Primordials must surely mean a greater connection to the Progenitor.

Prometheus approached slowly. He knew that by seeking an audience with Chaos was not a task taken lightly. He had seen them before, of course. They had helped him immensely, but would Chaos be upset for the reason Prometheus might disturb them.

The weight of his thoughts were heavier than the silence around him. Zeus’ voice rang in his head about his “traitorous family”.

Why did it come to action? Prometheus liked the idea of waiting. The principle allowed him to be sure of his actions.

With Athena by Zeus’ side, Zeus would think he was unbeatable, but had Athena truly reconciled with her father? Was it all an act? Did it matter? If Athena was only loyal to Zeus until he was beatable, did that mean a champion needed to be trained up for battle Zeus? If that was the case, Prometheus might be better off talking to Gaia, but he could not get involved with her, not after the Typhon incident.

He raised his hand toward the Gate.

Law dictated a toll. He willed the cut to form upon his palm, as he had done before, but the skin did not yield. His ichor refused to spill. The Gate was rejecting him...

A frown creased his face in confusion. He withdrew a small bronze shard from his belt and pressed it into his palm. The skin parted; golden ichor welled in a slow, heavy drop. He let it fall toward the darkness.

The portal shuddered but did no more. In fact, the darkness of the Gate seemed to dim, as if to reject him

“No...” he murmured.

For some unknown reason, Chaos rejected him.

Did the Progenitor know why he had come? Was he unworthy of an audience?

Even as he thought of failing his creator somehow, maybe the Maker believed in Prometheus to handle this on his own.

He would need to learn to deal with Zeus on his own. Prometheus knew that someday he might have to cross Zeus and be punished for it. That must have meant that someway, somehow actions were taken to harm Zeus.

What that was or how it hurt the King of Olympus, Prometheus did not know, but that was something he might need to find out the old fashioned way.

Deeper in the Underworld, there was a throne room. Upon his black marble throne sat Hades.

Nyx emerged from the shadows as if she had been there all along. She was tall, ageless, and wrapped in a flowing gown of blackness that the night sky was mirrored after. Her eyes deliberately looked upon the King of the Underworld. She did not bow, for she was an equal to this ruler, and Hades well knew that fact. For his acknowledgement of her, Hades inclined his head.

“Phoebe and Coeus were returned some time ago, and the pact between you and your brother is fulfilled,” Nyx said, her voice a silk thread in the heavy air.

Hades’s gaze was unreadable. He clearly knew this had occurred some time ago, but he did not interrupt or disrespect Nyx,

“And the Olympians?”

“They circle like hawks while also suffering by your brother’s hand,” Nyx replied. “Zeus has asked to see Hypnos. He suspects his interaction with Hera’s games ... Rather than go myself, I thought it best to tell you first.”

“You may refuse him,” Hades said after a pause, his tone low, iron-bound. “Or grant his request. Either way, the Underworld stands with you. Zeus will find no leverage in my Underworld.”