Let me ask you something.
Who's the hardest person in the world to satisfy?
Is it the greedy—the kind of person who wants everything, all the time? Nope. Greed, at least, can be punished. The gods have their ways: lightning bolts, curses, poetic justice. Greedy people want something, and the gods can deal with that.
But someone who wants nothing?
Now that's a problem.
Prometheus, Titan of Wisdom and eternal prisoner of Olympus, had guided countless mortals—brave ones, foolish ones, ambitious ones. They always came seeking power, answers, or vengeance. Easy enough. He gave them the map. They followed it to greatness or ruin.
But this one? Cyd?
He just wanted to be normal.
And that? That was new.
Prometheus studied the boy standing before him—white-haired, sun-weary, a little underfed, but calm. His eyes didn't burn with ambition. They were quiet. Steady. Unshakable.
"You don't want to become a hero?" Prometheus asked, though he already knew the answer.
Cyd shook his head. "No. I don't want that life."
Prometheus sighed. "You are a difficult child."
He looked up at the sky, chains rattling faintly. After all the heroes he'd coached—Heracles, Perseus, Achilles—now here was this boy. Not craving glory. Not aiming to slay monsters. Just wanting to exist.
"Sorry," Cyd mumbled, eyes downcast.
"No need to apologize." Prometheus offered a small smile. "You're not wrong, Cyd. You're just… rare. And I will use all my wisdom to help you."
"Thanks," Cyd said softly, bowing his head.
Prometheus straightened, his voice suddenly firm. "First, you need an invulnerable body."
Cyd blinked. "…Wait, why?"
"If you want to live a peaceful life in a world ruled by chaos, you'll need protection. The kind no sword or spell can break."
He pointed toward the white horse grazing in the distance. "Poseidon's mount will take you to the Styx. Bathe in its waters, and you'll gain a body that defies harm."
Cyd raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a trick."
Prometheus chuckled. "The gods can be cruel, yes. But when someone deserves protection, they can be kind, too. The trick is surviving long enough to find out which it is."
Cyd sighed. "Fine. Invulnerability first. What else?"
"Skill," Prometheus said, rattling his chains. "Even an invincible body won't save you if you don't know how to fight. Seek a centaur. They can teach you how to survive."
"But… centaurs eat people."
"Some do. Find one who doesn't."
Cyd stared at him. "So, Chiron."
Prometheus nodded. "Exactly. He's not interested in making heroes. Just helping people survive. Like me."
Cyd hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I'll learn self-defense. I don't like it, but… fine."
"One more thing," Prometheus added. "You'll need a Sacred Tool forged by the God of Fire. It'll protect you from curses—even divine ones."
Now that caught Cyd's attention. "…Okay, yeah. I'm listening."
"Without godly blood, you're especially vulnerable. One curse from a minor deity could end your story early. But with Hephaestus's craftsmanship on your side…"
"Why would the God of Fire make something like that for me?"
Prometheus smiled knowingly. "Because he'll listen to you. You may not realize it, but some gods value those who ask for nothing."
Cyd squinted. "You're being cryptic again."
"Ordinary lives need mystery too," Prometheus said gently. "Now go, child. Your journey won't be easy—but it can still be your own."
Cyd bowed, quietly. "Thank you. And… sorry I can't free you."
Prometheus shook his head. "This is my choice. Go. Walk toward the life you want."
The boy turned, climbing onto the white horse's back. It let out a soft snort before galloping into the clouds.
And then the Titan spoke again—this time to someone hidden nearby.
"You can come out now, King of the Gods."
Zeus stepped into view, arms crossed, leaning against a boulder like he'd been there the whole time. Which, of course, he had.
"I wasn't hiding," Zeus muttered. "Just observing. You know I like a good wager."
Prometheus raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"I lost." Zeus shrugged. "I bet Poseidon's horse would eat the boy before trusting him. Misjudged him."
Prometheus chuckled. "You always were bad at bluffing."
"I spoke with Thetis," Zeus continued, ignoring the jab. "If he survives the Styx, she might temper the boy's body in fire. A gift. One day only."
Prometheus raised an eyebrow. "You still believe in the prophecy, then?"
"The one that says a mortal born of no god will change the fate of Olympus?" Zeus's tone grew serious. "I didn't forget it."
He stepped forward, wings of pitch-black shadow unfurling behind him.
"I didn't chain you here just for stealing fire," he said, voice low. "There's more to it. You know that."
Prometheus didn't flinch. "Of course. Your paranoia's legendary, after all."
"But today," Zeus said, peering into the distance, "you hesitated to answer his prayer. Why?"
Prometheus looked down, guilt flickering across his face.
"Because he trusted me," he said quietly. "And I used that trust to nudge him toward a path he didn't want."
Zeus tilted his head. "That's a first. You've guided thousands—heroes, tyrants, kings—and never looked back."
"This one's different." Prometheus stared into the clouds where Cyd had vanished. "He doesn't crave war. He just wants to live. So I gave him the tools… even if it means the world won't let him stay ordinary."
Zeus studied the Titan for a long moment.
"Even if you regret it," he said, "he will become a hero."
Prometheus gave a tired smile. "One that people remember. For the right reasons."
"I'm curious now," Zeus muttered. "We'll see how far this 'peace-loving boy' can go."
His wings spread wide, casting a shadow across the mountaintop. "I won't tear out your liver today. Not after seeing that expression."
And with that, Zeus dissolved into a brilliant eagle and soared into the sky.
Prometheus closed his eyes.
"Cyd… Pure Son of Man," he whispered, the wind tugging at his chains. "The path you've chosen may never be easy. It may never even be yours alone. But you'll have my prayers that your spirit…"
He opened his eyes.
"Your spirit will remain unbroken."
————————————————————
"I've been feeling… off," I muttered, gripping the horse's mane tighter than I probably needed to. "Are we seriously heading to the River Styx?"
The white horse flicked its ears back at me, clearly annoyed. Which—fair. I'd been asking that same question for the last twenty minutes.
Then, without any warning, it dropped out of the sky like a rock with wings.
We landed in a clearing so serene, it felt like a lie. Grass swayed gently in the breeze. Birds chirped like they hadn't read the script. And right in front of us? A calm, slow-moving stream.
"…That's the Styx?" I blinked.
I was expecting lava. Screams. Maybe some whispering skulls or ominous thunderclouds. This looked more like a postcard.
"Seriously?" I mumbled, squinting at the water. "This is the cursed river that eats souls? Looks more like a spa for nature spirits."
The horse nudged me forward like, Go on, genius. This is what you wanted.
I took a hesitant step, shoes crunching against the riverbank. Okay. I'd come this far. I offered my hair to Poseidon, survived demonic sisters, outran bandits, and got punted into the sky by a horse. If this was how I died, at least it'd be poetic.
Rolling up my sleeves, I waded in.
The water was… warm. And kind of nice? It tickled my ankles like it was trying to reassure me. "Shhh, mortal. Everything's fine. Definitely not cursed."
I lay back in the shallow water, let it rise up until it kissed the tip of my nose. For a moment, it felt like the world melted away. The ache in my shoulders, the constant buzzing in my brain, the quiet panic of you really don't belong here. Gone.
I stared into the river's depths. So… invulnerability. Would this protect me from spears? From gods? From being squished by some Titan's toe?
And what about the subtle stuff? Poison? Suffocating? Having your brain fried by a god's mood swing?
Just as I started wondering what invulnerability didn't cover, I saw someone petting the horse.
A woman with flowing sea-blue hair. Long gown, bare feet, and a presence so ancient it made the river shiver.
I shot upright and immediately choked on half the Styx.
Good news: I didn't die.
Bad news: I really thought I was about to.
I crawled out of the water coughing like I'd swallowed a sponge. My entire body trembled—not from fear, exactly, but from knowing.
She knelt beside me, smiling like this happened all the time.
"What an interesting child," she said.
My heart skipped. "Which… goddess are you?" I asked, voice hoarse.
She tilted her head, teasing. "Me?"
Then she squatted, and her gown parted just enough to show a very mortal-distracting amount of leg.
I slapped my hands over my eyes like a proper terrified mortal. "Nope, not looking! I respect you! I fear you! Please don't smite me!"
She laughed softly and pinched my cheek. "You're cute. I'm Thetis."
I opened one eye. "The Thetis?"
She stood again, brushing her gown back into place. "Yes, that Thetis. You've got lovely hair. You should let it grow longer."
I gave her a sheepish smile. "I'll consider it… if I survive the next ten minutes."
"Fair." Her tone shifted, the playful air thinning into something serious. "You've bathed in the Styx. You're nearly immortal now. But that protection only goes so far."
"Yeah." I rubbed my neck, still aching from the not-drowning. "Physical attacks might bounce off, but what about curses? Poison? Mind control? Greek mythology doesn't exactly come with fine print."
"That's where I come in," Thetis said. "You lack divine blood, but I can offer you something close. A blessing. It won't make you invincible, but it'll give you balance. Protection from the divine… or at least, a chance."
I hesitated. "Not to sound ungrateful, but… why?"
"Because you didn't ask," she said simply. "And because mortals like you don't come around often."
I scratched my head. "I dunno… being flawless sounds exhausting. I kinda like my flaws. They remind me I'm still human."
Thetis blinked, genuinely surprised. "That's… not something I hear often."
"That's because I'm just a dumb mortal," I said, trying for a grin.
Her smile softened. "Maybe. Or maybe you're something else entirely. Either way, your journey has just begun."
"I was afraid you'd say that." I sighed, trudging toward the horse.
"You'll know when your journey ends," she called after me. "Until then, keep moving forward. That's my blessing to you."
Before I could reply, the horse took off.
No warning. No countdown. Just whoosh.
I held on for dear life as we tore through the clouds, my stomach lurching somewhere around my throat. "This is revenge for earlier, isn't it?! Slow down!"
The horse didn't listen. It picked up speed.
"I said I was sorry!" I shouted. "I don't wanna meet Hermes this soon!"
And then—dive.
We plunged toward the ground like a meteor. I was 99% sure my soul left my body halfway down.
The horse landed gracefully.
I did not.
I faceplanted into the dirt, rolled a few times, and finally flopped onto my back, groaning. "I almost got a one-way trip to the Underworld," I muttered. "Again."
The horse gave me a playful kick, snorted, and then flapped its wings and soared away like mission complete.
"I swear you enjoy this," I called after it, spitting dirt.
I lay there, catching my breath, when I heard it—hoofbeats.
But not from the sky.
From the darkness ahead. A cavern.
I sat up slowly. The air felt different now—heavier. Older.
The hoofbeats grew louder, steady and deliberate, echoing through stone.