atlant108
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... — How dare you come here?! — Zeus exclaimed thunderously, raising a thunderbolt over his head. His voice rolled through the hall like a mountain landslide, making the walls tremble.
The Titans and heroes answered the Thunderer with defiant glares, and Cronus shouted:
— Return what belongs to us by right — our power!
In the strength of his voice, Cronus was in no way inferior to the King of the Olympians.
— You, who only yesterday begged me for freedom, speak of power once again?! I shall destroy you! I will imprison you in such a dungeon that there will be no way back!...
To be continued...
— Our swords shall find it! — Ajax the Oily shouted shrilly. Zeus pushed the brazen man in the chest with a bolt of energy. The hero staggered but held his ground.
— It won't work! — Ajax shook his spear threateningly. — You were too generous in granting us immortality. I imagine how you regret it now!
— Not at all. — Zeus smirked and turned his gaze toward the god of war. — Ares!
The latter nodded and stretched out his arms. In that same instant, the heroes' faces turned to stone, and as one, they stepped forward in unison. One step, another, and another. By the unnatural movements of the warriors, it was easy to guess that they were trying to fight a force compelling them to act against their own will. But this force, stemming from the depths of consciousness, was insurmountable, and the heroes yielded. Upon reaching the throne, they turned as one and leveled their spears at the Titans.
— As you can see, by granting you eternal life, I ensured that if necessity arose, you would serve me faithfully even after death! — Zeus exclaimed triumphantly.
The echo of his voice was still booming off the marble walls and vault when three shadows appeared in the rectangular doorway outlined by the rays of the setting sun, falling like ugly stains upon the marble floor. The Titans turned hastily. Behind them stood the Hecatoncheires, gazing maliciously at the freed prisoners.
— Gaze upon the rays of the sun one last time! — Zeus roared with laughter. — Now I shall hide you in such a dungeon where the light of a candle will seem more blinding than the midday rays!
The Titans remained silent, gritting their teeth, then Cronus spoke:
— A star, if one looks closer, is always a sun. I wish to tell you, Zeus, I have finished my painting. Now there is a face upon the wall of the one who shall grind you into dust.
Zeus smirked.
— I am trembling with fear. I... — The Thunderer cut himself off, for in that moment, a new face appeared in the hall. Fate — the greatest director the world has ever known. Only she could create such an intricate plot, bringing new and new heroes onto the stage, doing everything to enjoy the game before the denouement arrives.
Comedy, tragedy, farce — everything must be saturated with intrigue: departing Moors and suddenly returning husbands, rebels vanishing into the subterranean abyss, and prophets ascending into the ether. They say the great Aeschylus intended to finish his "Prometheus," to bring back from the void the rock with the hero who suddenly regained his strength.
Whether the legend be true or not, Prometheus returned. He emerged from nothingness, huge and majestic, like a statue by Polymedov. Time had not touched the Titan at all; his hair was black, his body young, his gaze piercing. In truth, it was meant to be so, for the wise Chiron had granted him immortality.
Crossing his arms over his chest, the Titan looked defiantly at the Thunderer. In his gaze was a triumph that unsettled the Olympians.
— Seize them! — Zeus exclaimed hastily.
— Stop! — Prometheus raised his hand preemptively. — Stop, great gods! Or are you unaware of the prophecy that Prometheus shall return when the time of change arrives and the power of the tyrant, who imagined he held the fate of the whole world in his hands, falls!
The Titan was still shouting when enormous silvery-black tentacles began to grow from Zeus's chest. They grew larger, filling with a deathly and grim power. They reached an incredible length, lunged forward, and coiled around Prometheus's body. The Titans cried out; Iapetus, the prophet's father, rushed to help his rebellious son. But the movements of the tentacles were lightning-fast. Lifting Prometheus into the air, they slammed his head against the wall with full force. Pink fluid splashed, sprinkling the gods and heroes frozen by the throne. Then the tentacles loosened and released the lifeless body. For a moment, it was unbearably quiet, with only the rustle of storm-tossed branches and the ragged breathing of the gods, stunned by what had occurred. Only a moment. Then the silence exploded into a furious scream, and the Titans rushed upon their enemies.
Fiery vortices filled the throne hall, crashing down upon the gods and Hecatoncheires. The Olympians responded with a volley of energy bolts. The Hecatoncheires, possessing a powerful protective field, menacingly spread their numerous limbs and moved toward the Titans.
On the other side, a line of heroes stood ready to attack. They did not possess the strength of the hundred-handed ones or the energy power of the gods, but at this moment, they represented the greatest danger to the Titans. Foreseeing that the hour might come when heroes transformed into plasma-energy cyborgs might be useful to him, Zeus had ordered Hephaestus to craft special rods for them, the tips of which were coated with a substance possessing anti-gravity properties. Any strike with such a weapon, penetrating deep enough into a Titan's defensive contour, could inflict a grievous wound.
The Titans and heroes answered the Thunderer with defiant glares, and Cronus shouted:
— Return what belongs to us by right — our power!
In the strength of his voice, Cronus was in no way inferior to the King of the Olympians.
— You, who only yesterday begged me for freedom, speak of power once again?! I shall destroy you! I will imprison you in such a dungeon that there will be no way back!...
To be continued...
— Our swords shall find it! — Ajax the Oily shouted shrilly. Zeus pushed the brazen man in the chest with a bolt of energy. The hero staggered but held his ground.
— It won't work! — Ajax shook his spear threateningly. — You were too generous in granting us immortality. I imagine how you regret it now!
— Not at all. — Zeus smirked and turned his gaze toward the god of war. — Ares!
The latter nodded and stretched out his arms. In that same instant, the heroes' faces turned to stone, and as one, they stepped forward in unison. One step, another, and another. By the unnatural movements of the warriors, it was easy to guess that they were trying to fight a force compelling them to act against their own will. But this force, stemming from the depths of consciousness, was insurmountable, and the heroes yielded. Upon reaching the throne, they turned as one and leveled their spears at the Titans.
— As you can see, by granting you eternal life, I ensured that if necessity arose, you would serve me faithfully even after death! — Zeus exclaimed triumphantly.
The echo of his voice was still booming off the marble walls and vault when three shadows appeared in the rectangular doorway outlined by the rays of the setting sun, falling like ugly stains upon the marble floor. The Titans turned hastily. Behind them stood the Hecatoncheires, gazing maliciously at the freed prisoners.
— Gaze upon the rays of the sun one last time! — Zeus roared with laughter. — Now I shall hide you in such a dungeon where the light of a candle will seem more blinding than the midday rays!
The Titans remained silent, gritting their teeth, then Cronus spoke:
— A star, if one looks closer, is always a sun. I wish to tell you, Zeus, I have finished my painting. Now there is a face upon the wall of the one who shall grind you into dust.
Zeus smirked.
— I am trembling with fear. I... — The Thunderer cut himself off, for in that moment, a new face appeared in the hall. Fate — the greatest director the world has ever known. Only she could create such an intricate plot, bringing new and new heroes onto the stage, doing everything to enjoy the game before the denouement arrives.
Comedy, tragedy, farce — everything must be saturated with intrigue: departing Moors and suddenly returning husbands, rebels vanishing into the subterranean abyss, and prophets ascending into the ether. They say the great Aeschylus intended to finish his "Prometheus," to bring back from the void the rock with the hero who suddenly regained his strength.
Whether the legend be true or not, Prometheus returned. He emerged from nothingness, huge and majestic, like a statue by Polymedov. Time had not touched the Titan at all; his hair was black, his body young, his gaze piercing. In truth, it was meant to be so, for the wise Chiron had granted him immortality.
Crossing his arms over his chest, the Titan looked defiantly at the Thunderer. In his gaze was a triumph that unsettled the Olympians.
— Seize them! — Zeus exclaimed hastily.
— Stop! — Prometheus raised his hand preemptively. — Stop, great gods! Or are you unaware of the prophecy that Prometheus shall return when the time of change arrives and the power of the tyrant, who imagined he held the fate of the whole world in his hands, falls!
The Titan was still shouting when enormous silvery-black tentacles began to grow from Zeus's chest. They grew larger, filling with a deathly and grim power. They reached an incredible length, lunged forward, and coiled around Prometheus's body. The Titans cried out; Iapetus, the prophet's father, rushed to help his rebellious son. But the movements of the tentacles were lightning-fast. Lifting Prometheus into the air, they slammed his head against the wall with full force. Pink fluid splashed, sprinkling the gods and heroes frozen by the throne. Then the tentacles loosened and released the lifeless body. For a moment, it was unbearably quiet, with only the rustle of storm-tossed branches and the ragged breathing of the gods, stunned by what had occurred. Only a moment. Then the silence exploded into a furious scream, and the Titans rushed upon their enemies.
Fiery vortices filled the throne hall, crashing down upon the gods and Hecatoncheires. The Olympians responded with a volley of energy bolts. The Hecatoncheires, possessing a powerful protective field, menacingly spread their numerous limbs and moved toward the Titans.
On the other side, a line of heroes stood ready to attack. They did not possess the strength of the hundred-handed ones or the energy power of the gods, but at this moment, they represented the greatest danger to the Titans. Foreseeing that the hour might come when heroes transformed into plasma-energy cyborgs might be useful to him, Zeus had ordered Hephaestus to craft special rods for them, the tips of which were coated with a substance possessing anti-gravity properties. Any strike with such a weapon, penetrating deep enough into a Titan's defensive contour, could inflict a grievous wound.