Happy Holidays everybody!


Cronus was so ignorant when it came to the people that were around him and how they acted. He would have never of guessed that his wife was acting suspicious, that his new cupbearer looked to him with distain, or that that Metis girl seemed to be lingering about more often than usual. She was always hovering, always watching, examining, plotting, yet the king had no idea.

Several days had past without a battle plan. Many moons and many suns, lights and darkness swept in over the mighty mountain with the king remaining oblivious that his own wife was conspiring to over throw him.

But were the children within his belly necessary?

That was up for debate between them, another secret meeting in the dinning room when the moon was at its highest point in the night sky amongst the stars, and the king was at rest in his chambers. There, at the large table that they had sat at before were the leaders of the secret rebellion that was about to take place. There they sat, discussing their plans of override and overrule of the tyranny king that claimed the throne above them.

Metis sits in the same spot as last time, as does Rhea and Zeus, with Agape standing beside her queen, hands clasped behind her back. She was not serving wine. Alcohol could not cloud their judgement. Not with this matter. It was far too important.

"Are they necessary?" Zeus questions his mother, whom he has grown very fond of. "Will the cause be lost if we not free them?"

Rhea looked to the table with heartache. Already her son was willing to give up on his brothers and sisters. Already he was far more concerned with the war that was to come and how to win it.

"I mean, it would be far easier to just kill him by poison than bothering to rescuing the ones he has consumed first," Zeus further explains.

"I understand that," Rhea speaks in response to her son's words. "But they are your siblings. They are my children. I want them back. They didn't ask for that fate and there must be a way to free them." She looks up for hope at Metis. "Any suggestions?"

The young titan woman shrugs her shoulders, attempting to think of a proper response for her queen. There had to be something they could do to release the ones trapped within the king's stomach. A potion, a spell, anything? There had to be something and so Metis tapped into all the information she had stored in her head. If only there was someone who could answer their questions. Someone who could see into the future.

There was.

"The Moirai," Metis sparks with intelligent enthusiasm.

"The who?" Zeus questions with a furrowed brow.

"The Moirai," Metis repeats, looking between her queen and her prince. "They are also known as the Fates. They decide every being's life span, how they die, when they die. They control everything that has to do with life. They can see into the future. They can tell us if the siblings be important for the war or not. They can tell us anything. I suggest we start there."

Zeus and his mother shared in a look, curious and rationing the odds of these Fates helping them or providing more than less than unhelpful information. Would they just be turned away? It was clear between all of them that it was worth a shot.

"Then you shall go to see the Fates," Rhea agreed, desiring for her future to be seen, to know if her children stood a chance against their father. "Zeus and Metis, the two of you shall venture to see the Fates and discuss what is to become of your siblings. However, I would like someone I trust to accompany you, if you don't mind?"

While Zeus appeared obviously disturbed by his mother's request, for this third party would infringe upon his time with Metis, the titan female was quick to agree with her queen.

"Of course, my Lady," Metis speaks purely, almost in song. "Who do you ask that we bring with us?"

Rhea turns to the young Agape that stands beside her, awaiting her orders. Her queen had a task for her.

"Agape," speaks Rhea.

"Yes, my Lady?" the young servant asks.

"Go and bring to me the blacksmith," Rhea tells her. "I require his presence."

Agape bows her head some before heading out of the room, knowing that if the blacksmith was sleeping, she would have to awaken him. Sometimes, he frightened her, but the blacksmith- she knew- would never harm a hair on her head. He was a rather kind, gentle giant who often minded his own business. He just appeared so intimidating, is all. That is what startled her slightly whenever in his presence.

In any case, Agape nearly skipped out of the palace, being free from its walls in such the longest time. It felt liberating to walk into the true air and breathe it in. Even if it were only for a short while, just being outside was enough to make the girl nearly skip in glee towards the home of the blacksmith.


It was dark and bleak, as per usual. In any case, Agape knew not to be frightened of the night. There was nothing out here that could harm her. The titans should be sleeping, and if not, they would not dare venture out at night. She was the only one she knew that would even wander out at this hour, but that was because of her orders from the queen. If not, she would still be in the castle, still roaming the marble corridors, still trapped within a prison made of moss and marble.

She holds her cloak tightly at the end of her hood, pinching it shut and concealing her bright hair from the beams of the moon above. How beautiful it was. How enchanting. She looks to it with glittering eyes and smiles at the appearance of it. Divine beauty that no living creature could compare to. She was beautiful as she stood tall in the sky, making the stars jealous of her.

She walks on, nonetheless, further into the town that rested at the top of the mountain, searching for the blacksmith's small home, but she never found it. Not before another titan stood before her, tall and towering, peering down at her with some frightening eyes that she had never seen before. She swallowed hard, attempting to control her fears.

What was he doing out at such an hour? They should all be asleep, they should all be inside. The fact that this one was wandering and had crossed paths with her chilled Agape to the core.

"And what is a small thing like you doing out at an hour like this?" the titan questions, his bulging muscles upon his arms making the young and frail Agape to shiver inwardly.

"Duty," she replied, hoping her position would save her.

"For who?" he asks.

"The queen, Rhea, herself," Agape responds quickly, but it seems to do nothing in her favor.

The titan merely laughs at her small, mouse-like voice, unable to be frightened of her position, whom she may serve or what have you. To him, she was a mere girl wandering the streets with no one around. Poor Agape was alone and bound to be harmed by the being before her. She hadn't realized it, but she was holding her breath tightly.

"A shame," he says as he traces a finger along her jawline, slithering it across her skin. She squeezes her eyes shut and turns her head to try and free herself from his finger's touch. "That the queen is not here to protect you."

"Sir," she begs, "please."

He laughs and grabs her. She screams, kicking, fighting, and pounding the titan's back after he had flung her over his shoulder. She hollered and wailed for anyone who would be listening, tears streaming from her eyes and her face turning red with how hard she fought to be free of her captor.

"Someone!" she shouts at the top of her lungs. "Anyone! Please! Help me!"

The titan who drags her only chuckles as he takes her further and further away into the darkness, bringing her down a path that she had no desire to venture down. She was still a maiden. She wasn't ready for something like this and she could only fear the worse.

"Help me! Help me! Please!"

And then a voice called, a kind one, a soft one, that responded to her pleas and begs for aide.

"Epimetheus," it speaks and the titan that carries the young Agape is still with embarrassment and anger. Frustration, above all else. "Put the girl down."

Agape looks up, through her strands of hair and befallen hood. She pushes the obstructions of her vision out of her sight's way to gaze upon the person who had saved her-or, at least, was going to.

Another tall fellow, nowhere near as built as the one that had her slung over her shoulder, but still in shape, as most of the titan males are. He was young, though. Nearly as young as her, and his face was surprisingly clear of any hairs or excessive scars like the others. He was a handsome fellow, a kind looking fellow, and the dazzling green eyes that came along with the brown hair held innocence within them, but also something else. Mischief? Foresight? Whatever it was, it sparkled lightly within those green crystals that gave the titan the gift of sight.

"Aw, come on, Brother," the titan that carried Agape replied to his brother's demands. "Just this once, turn your head."

"Put her down, Epimetheus," the other order. "Now."

Caving, the titan set Agape down much more gently than he had picked her up. Back on her feet, Agape readjusted her toga and cloak, brushing back her hair and throwing her hood back up to cover her hair once more. She often got teased for how light it was. Most of the titans had dark hair, but the one who had saved her, why his hair wasn't as dark as the other's either. His was rather light like her's, nearing blond in color.

"Now, go on home," her savior commanded his brother, to which-what was his name?-Epimetheus complied with a heavy groan, giving Agape a hurtful and disgusted sneer before doing so, leaving the two alone to converse.

"I apologize for my brother's behavior," spoke the titan who had rescued her. "He is unable to control himself at times."

"Well," Agape managed to speak despite her trembling and nerves. Tears still pooled in her eyes and stuck to her cheeks in streams of dried up salt. She sniffled some without even realizing it as she spoke through her trembling teeth. "It didn't go far, thanks to you."

"Not a problem," he spoke in response. "You said you were with the queen?"

The blacksmith's voice was even calm.

"Yes, we met maybe once or twice," Agape speaks. "I'm Agape, the queen's personal servant. She sent me to get you, Lord Prometheus."

"Oh, no." Prometheus laughs some before continuing on. "I am no Lord, Agape. Just Prometheus is fine. If you don't mind me asking, why is it the queen asks for me at this hour?"

"I have a feeling, but I am uncertain," Agape replies honestly. "I believe it may have something to do with the fact that her other servant is taking a trip to see the Fates. I believe she desires for you to go with her."

Prometheus brings a hand to his chin and strokes it slightly, as if contemplating something as he listened closely to Agape's words.

"She wants me to go see the Fates with another servant of hers?" he questions.

"For whatever reason she has for choosing you," Agape speaks, "but as I said before, I am unsure of what the queen desires of you. All I do know is that she sent me to collect you and to bring you back to the palace immediately."

Prometheus nods slightly before giving a gentle, carefree smile.

"Very well then," he says and turns swiftly, heading in the direction from which Agape came.

"Prometheus," Agape calls, "where are you going?"

"To the palace, of course," he calls back without stopping, "to see the queen." He peeks over his shoulder, smiling still. "Are you coming?"

Agape didn't even take a moment to contemplate. She busted into a jolt, catching up with Prometheus so she wouldn't be alone. Not at this hour. She got so close to being captured and tortured. She wasn't going to let it happen to her twice in one night, and so she remained close to Prometheus' side, unwilling to stray too far from him.


"Don't take it the wrong way, my Lady," Prometheus speaks, now before the three plotters of the king's ultimate downfall, "I am honored that you choose me to visit the Fates along with your servant and the king's, but I cannot help but wonder why?"

Rhea smiles, sitting a bit taller in her throne-like chair at the head of the table. She sat somewhat proudly, even.

"My dear Prometheus," she says like a mother would to their child, "I trust you the most. Not only because there are many times the royal family has called upon your services and you supplied all you could, but you have a spectacular gift of foresight and intelligence. The Fates, I hear, can be tricky. In order to be sure that these two are not taken advantage of, I would much enjoy someone with your wit to go with them. Make sure the Fates tell them what they desire to know and nothing less. Would you go, Prometheus? As a favor for me, your queen?"

The young blacksmith-titan took only a moment to juggle the thought in his mind. And because of his wonderful gift of foresight and brains, he was able to know that the two servants would be lost without him, and that their journey would not take much of him. As talented as he was with seeing into the future, it would not extend as far as that of the Fates' abilities. So, Prometheus quickly complied with the queen's wishes, dipping his head to her with a smile.

"I accept the task, my Lady," he says proudly and true.

"Oh, wonderful," Rhea expresses before clasping her hands together before her face. "If you are to travel with them, then perhaps, you should know who they are exactly."

Prometheus raises a brow as Metis turns to her queen with concern, Zeus merely scrunching his nose at the presence of the male titan. He had no idea why, but he felt intimidated by Prometheus' presence. There was just something about the blacksmith-titan that he just didn't enjoy.

"My Lady," Metis speaks, "is that wise?"

"We can trust Prometheus," Rhea assures.

"What if he informs the king th-"

"Prometheus does not serve the king," Rhea interrupts with her facts. "He serves me."

She then shifts her attention back to the titan that stood before her, Agape remaining close to him even though they were no longer outside, on the darkened streets that was open to offenders.

"You will not tell the king anything, will you?" Rhea addresses to the titan, not speaking in the same motherly tone as usual, but rather as a queen.

Prometheus places his hand on his heart as he raises his right, swearing upon his life to keep the queen's plans and his task and the Fates' replies to the answers that they would be asked a secret.

"You have my word and my undying service, my Lady," Prometheus says, hating the king almost as much as the queen did.

An oppressor, a tyrant, a hateful soul that thrived on power and the ability to remain forever.

"Well then, Zeus here," Rhea says while gesturing in Zeus' direction, "is my son. My youngest son."

Prometheus' brows raised, as did his suspicions. Well, he did appear to be the child of the queen and king based on looks alone, but he was certain the king swallowed all of his children whole the moment they were born. Zeus should be in the stomach of Cronus with the rest of his brothers and sisters.

"My Lady, if you don't mind me asking," Prometheus begins, "how is that possible?"

"A quick swap and the king never noticed," Rhea replied, proud of her own brilliance. "I gave him a boulder to swallow instead of Zeus. I then brought my son down to earth for him to live in Crete until it would be time for his return. Now, I believed, would be the right time. However, the Fates can supply us with more information than a mother's instinct."

It made sense and he had to tip his hat to her. It was smart thinking on her part and something he was sure only someone as sly as himself would have been able to come up with.

"A wise plan, indeed, my Lady," Prometheus compliments. "Well, I would be more than happy to undergo this venture with your son and your servant. I shall be sure to get all the answers you seek from the Fates and report directly back to you."

"Thank you, Prometheus," Rhea says. "Now, go. All of you. Go before dawn so you are not so easily spotted, and do not return until you have spoken to the Fates."

Metis and Zeus stood in sync, bowing to their queen before heading towards the doors, Prometheus smiling down at little Agape before traveling behind them. However, they were stopped by the queen's voice before they could go very far.

"Oh, and on this venture of yours," she speaks, their eyes all focused on her fierce ones, "Prometheus is in charge. Over everyone," she addresses mostly towards Zeus.

The young male curled his hands into fists, already furious to have his powers oppressed by someone who was not even of royal blood. Was he not trusted by his mother? Did she believe Prometheus to be wiser than he? The feeling of doubt grew in the pit of Zeus' mind, but he contained his anger, forcing himself to obey his mother's wishes before turning and leaving before any other words could be further exchanged.


"The Fates reside here," Prometheus tells Metis and Zeus as they hide behind a pile of boulders, looking down at the temple in which the Fates called home.

It wasn't anything grand or spectacular, but rather, it was just a large room held up by pillars and stones. It sprouted from the ground, a monument made of white with an eerie feel to it. The appearance of it alone was peculiar and the feeling that it radiated was that of a cool gust of air that just made you want to tremble.

Zeus looked to it without any sense of fear or doubt. It was more of child's play than anything else, and he was more than ready to just burst into the small temple surrounded by moss and grass to question the three sisters that lingered inside for the answers that he seeks.

"All right, then," Zeus speaks, "let's go."

"Wait!" Prometheus shouts with a whisper, grabbing onto Zeus' shoulder and bringing him back down, covered by the boulder once more. "You can't just barge in there. Patience, Sir. Be patient. These are tricky beasts that you deal with."

Zeus rolls his eyes in annoyance, hoping to achieve some sympathy from Metis, but she has none to give. She can only agree with the wise Prometheus.

"He is right, Sir," she says. "We want to approach them in the proper way."

"And what way is that?" Zeus questions in strain. "What way besides going in there and demanding to know what we want to know? Why not put them in their place; beneath us."

"Because," Prometheus interrupts, "they have power and are not beneath us. If anything, the Fates are above us and have the capability to design even our future. They hold all of our threads and can cut them with sharp shears any time they please. They sit above all of us, Zeus. The sooner you know that, the better."

"Don't speak down to me, Prometheus," Zeus sneers. "You are not a noblemen. You are not a soldier. You are a blacksmith."

"And a damn good one who knows what he is talking about," Prometheus snapped back without losing his temper. "You have much to learn, young Zeus, so I suggest you start taking mental notes."

There was a brief pause as the two men cooled their steam, not needing to get into a tiff with each other. At the moment, they were all on the same side, and they needed to keep it that way. So Zeus swallowed his pride and Prometheus calmed his sharp tongue, flexing his jaw as Zeus gave a puff of arrogance.

"What do you propose we do?" he questioned the blacksmith.

"We go in, but respectfully," Prometheus explained. "We speak with respect, with praise for only them. We do not speak highly of ourselves, rather lowly. And if they engage you in riddles or puzzles, do not answer them. Let me. These witches are tricky and it will not be easy to gain from them a straight answer, but spoken to properly, and we may just prevail."

Metis and Zeus-though he was reluctant-agreed with Prometheus' plan, standing from the place behind the boulder and heading towards the moss and marble temple that was just down the hill.

Metis couldn't help but to somewhat tremble at whatever horrors she was to face when before the Fates. She has only ever heard stories of their appearances, their nature, and just how misleading they can be.

Zeus provided no signs of discomfort, nor did he feel any. But no less was expected from someone who had never stood before such great beings with such high powers. Zeus had only been around animals, mere mortal creatures that grazed on grass or each other, and drank from rivers that filled with every time it should rain within the city if Crete. Zeus had no thought of civilization, no idea that there was others like him, and refused to believe that there was anyone above him.

Prometheus, however, was probably the only one who understood the Fates better than anyone else. He has spoken to them before, presented his findings to the King and Queen before. He has gazed upon their flesh and heard their words, managed to spot the holes in their riddles and tests, and was able to leave with his skin on his back each and every time. This time would not be different. He would leave with his health and his life. He would leave with dignity, and he would not let anything stand in his way of that. Not even Zeus himself, whom he would be more than happy to backhand in the mouth if the young titan-prince was to say anything that could alter the company's safety.


The inside was barely lit with several candles and small beams of moonlight that shined in from the open walls in the temple that were supposed to serve as windows. A slight draft of the cool mountaintop air swept in, blowing up the togas and cloaks of the company as they proceeded further and further into the temple, crossing over the marble floors. It appeared so much smaller on the outside, but appearances could always be misleading.

The walls were barren from any artificial design work. No paintings or carvings into the marble that would indicate any great detail or care went into creating the temple, not unlike the palace in which Rhea and Cronus lived in. Odd for creatures with far more power than the very being that walked in their halls.

Eventually, the corridor ended with a large wooden door standing between the three and whatever it was that rested on the other side. Zeus had an idea, Prometheus knew, and Metis hadn't had a clue. But, with a gentle push, Prometheus forced the door open, allowing the three of them entrance.

Even still, the room was small and held no feeling of grandness of extravagance. The ceiling didn't tower above them, the walls were left white and the only bit of color that consumed the room was that of the fire that was blazing in a half pit that connected to the far wall. Three females bodies, all dressed in togas of different shades, were seated around the blazing flame with a long thread stretched out between them, running across each of their laps. They muttered words that the other three could not decipher, but Prometheus makes no sign of importance to the words they say. Rather he just drops to one knee and waits. Metis and Zeus shortly follow, kneeling and waiting.

"Why don't we make our presence known?" Zeus questions with disgust and impatience, wondering why it was Prometheus had said nothing.

"They are well aware of our presence," the blacksmith explains. "Now we must wait for them to be ready for it."

And in due time, they were. Perhaps five minutes passing since the company arrived, perhaps ten. Maybe even fifteen. But it did not matter. They would wait as long as they needed to in order to hear the words of the Fates, and soon, they complied.

They ceased in their mutters, all three of them at once, and they raised their heads, as if just taking note of their visitor's presence or catching a smell of something not the norm. They remained kneeling as the Fates turned their heads, shocking Metis and Zeus with their appearance as it was nothing that they had expected.

Clotho, the youngest and the one who actually created the thread of each soul that was to enter this life, was not hag-like as many had told Zeus and Metis that she was. Rather, she had a young face, almost child-like, with bright, crimson cheeks, slightly tan skin, and large lashes that could easily create a tornado each and every time she blinked. She had long, blonde hair that trailed all the way down to her waist, bushy bangs hanging in her face and nearly covering her eyes while a large, cream colored toga covered most of her skin. Her fingers were dazzled with golden jewels, as were her ears, and around her forearms were thick, golden cuffs that could make even the richest titan envious. She was stunning, beyond all words.

The next one, Lachesis, drew the lots of all beings, determining their life span and what riches it would bring. She wasn't elderly either, but much like her sister, expect her face was more mature. Her skin was much darker than that of Clotho, almost a chestnut color, a beautiful mix of coffee with cream. Her blush was slightly darker than her skin with her eyes the color of olives. Her toga was a mixture of orange and yellow, equivalent to the shade of the sun. Her chocolate brown hair reached up to her jawline and then ceased to extend any further. Her fingers were also jeweled with golden rings, along with her ears, and she was just as desirable as her sister.

The last one, Atropos, was no hag either, but showed some quality of Fates expected design. She was the one who would decide the living's fate and cut their thread with her shears, sending them into the Underworld. The oldest, the most mature, but also the most beautiful in her own way. Atropos was much paler than her sisters, almost white in color, with no blush on either of her cheeks. Her eyes were that of a black abyss and her toga matched their color, concealing most of her skin from the prying eyes of Zeus or any man that came to be in her presence. Unlike her sisters, however, she wore no golden bands or rings or jewels. She was left completely untouched by fancy gems. Rather, she was just her with her raven-black hair cascading down her back, reaching lengths as extending as her calves.

Each and every one of the Fates was stunning.

"Metis," spoke Clotho.

"Prometheus," said Lachesis.

"A new soul," states Atropos, and approaches the group as her sisters stay behind. "A new soul in our presence. A being from ..." she sniffs, "Crete. The Greek lands. Yes, a titan, nonetheless. One born from royal blood. Powerful blood. Rhea's blood and Cronus' blood. The one named ... Zeus. Yes, mighty Zeus." She stops right before the titan prince. "You've come to hear your future Zeus. That is something that, I am afraid, I cannot provide."

Zeus nearly lost his temper, bitting his lower lip to hide his frustration, and putting on a fake smile to control his frown.

"Atropos," he speaks as politely as he can manage, but even with his efforts, Prometheus clearly fringes at the way Zeus addresses her. "I apologize for my questioning towards you, but may I ask, why?"

Atropos smiles, blinking her dark eyes over to the one she has made deals with before. Prometheus caught the gaze and knew he would have to do most of the talking, and so, most of the work.

"Words of the Fates are not so generously given," Atropos speaks, but not towards Zeus, rather towards the blacksmith. "They require reason, and understanding, and bargain."

"Payment?" Zeus questions with a raised brow. "Gold and jewels, we have plenty of that. What is your price? Name it?"

Atropos shifts her gaze back to Zeus, and it isn't a pleasant one. Rather, it seems as though she has been insulted by the boy's words.

"You honestly believe that we crave gold and jewels?" she asks with anger. "That our services can be bought for something that only titans are willing to slay each other for? We are Fates, you boy. Our services cannot be bought!"

"Of course not, Lady Atropos," Prometheus intervened before the Fate could cut Zeus' thread ahead of schedule. They still needed him, no matter how arrogant he was. "No one is suggesting that your's and your sisters' service could ever be purchased. Nor could a deal be struck with petty things like gold and jewels. Rather, your aide and gifts require something of much greater value. And, as always, the deal that is to be made determines on the request made to be made. So, if you would be so kind, Lady Atropos, Clotho, Lachesis, to hear out my request?"

Atropos clearly calms herself after Prometheus shares his assuring words and steals a glance at her sisters, waiting to hear their verdicts. All Lachesis does is cross her arms over her chest and bows her head slightly while Clotho fumbles with her fingers and shrugs her shoulders.

"Oh, Sisters," she speaks sweetly, almost like lyrics to a song, "Prometheus has only ever been kind to us and made us good deals. It would not be right of us to reject him this time when there appears to be greater things at risk. I say we hear him."

Prometheus was always more fond of that Fate than any of the others. She always took his side from the first time he had wandered into their temple, to now.

"Very well," Atropos agrees.

She turns back to Prometheus, looking between him, Metis, and the rude and ill-mannered Zeus. She sneers at him before setting her eyes on Prometheus', awaiting his words.

"Well, go on then, Prometheus," she says. "What aide do you require from us?"

"Foresight, Lady Atropos," Prometheus says. "We desire information that is rather crucial to our cause. Whether we have a chance and whether one of our own, who is currently imprisoned, will be the difference between victory and defeat."

Atropos takes this into consideration, obviously contemplating whether or not she should share such vital information with mere titans. She rests her palm on her collar bone, something she often does when thinking hard about something.

"An exchange must be made," she speaks as a response. "The information for something else."

Prometheus bows in understanding.

"But of course, Lady Atropos," Prometheus speaks. "What do you require in return?"

Atropos looks back to her sisters, sharing in a smile, an inside joke that only the Fates were aware of. And with that gaze, Lachesis produces a glass bottle from her sleeve. A vile with pink liquid floating about the inside of it.

"A favor in return," Atropos speaks as she takes the bottle from her sister's hand and begins to wave in the face of Prometheus. "A promise. You must promise us that whoever sits upon the mountaintop by the end of all of this while create beings in their own image using this." She lifts the bottle some, Prometheus able to see the bubbles that bursted on the inside. "Beings who walk, talk, eat, drink, sleep, live, breath, everything as we do. Beings in your own image. Beings that live on the Earth below. Deal?"

Prometheus desired to think it over, but Zeus jumped to conclusions before a moment could be wasted.

"Agreed," Zeus declared, much to Metis and Prometheus' dismay.

Atropos slithered a smile onto her face and stepped back some, beginning to stroll around the room with an elegant stride in her step, almost as if she were skipping.

"These prisoners are the children of Cronus and Rhea," says Clotho. "Swallowed whole by their father, but Rhea gave Cronus a stone instead of you, Zeus. She gave you to Crete, the land of Greece."

"Your siblings live in the stomach of your father," adds Lachesis. "All of your sisters and brothers, still alive, grown, waiting to be released."

"And released them you shall," Atropos speaks. "For they are important in the fight that is to take place. The war between the new order of beings that reins in the heavens. Not titans, no. Something much greater. A new race of all-mighty, a new power that deserves fear. Not titans, but gods."

Zeus smiles as Prometheus and Metis shiver.

"Yes," Atropos continues, "gods. Forever living beings that shall rule over everything. But who will become these gods? It is possible to win this war, but it will not happen fast. Sides must be chosen and siblings must be freed. Warriors, they all are, and you cannot win a war without warriors. Free your siblings, Zeus, and then you shall have the power to win the war. And then, you shall have the power to start two new races ..."

She extends her arm, holding out the bottle to him.

"The race of man," she says as Zeus takes the potion, "and the race of the gods."


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