In ages past, someone had seized the wisdom of gods, scattering it across humanity like embers.
Long ago, someone had shattered the divine monopoly, granting humans the means to seek knowledge on their own.
But that someone wasn't Prometheus.
For Prometheus was no human but a god—a mechanical deity older than Olympus itself, a remnant of the Titans who ruled Greece before the Olympian gods emerged.
Though the Titanomachia saw the Titan fleet defeated and their authority usurped, Prometheus himself escaped punishment.
Instead, he was accepted into the ranks of Olympus.
Despite being a god, Prometheus naturally favored humanity. Humans were, after all, beings he had personally "created." His broken mechanical body symbolized "evolution" and "repair," and upon becoming a conceptual god, he governed precisely the process by which humans evolved from animals into their current form.
In a certain sense, the legends claiming he created humanity were correct.
Thus, he loved humanity as a parent loves their children. Yet before now, he'd never believed his children could survive independently or cast off the gods.
That changed the moment Uruk's king brought the borders of his empire to the shores of the Aegean Sea.
It changed the moment the golden king carried stories of the Sage into Greece like the wind.
Only then did Prometheus consider stealing divine fire—not literal fire, but rather the flames of wisdom and freedom.
To Prometheus, Rovi was a partner, a pioneer, a kindred spirit he had longed to meet yet never encountered. Now, Heracles had brought him news of that very person.
"But," sighed the Titan giant, bound atop the high mountain by the God-King, "son of Zeus, you must understand—I cannot leave this place without the God-King's permission."
"I know," Heracles nodded solemnly, "but my words are sincere. Even if I can't free you now, I promise I will one day."
"But before that day arrives, I hope you can teach me—wisdom."
"I heard you possess one of the clay tablets the Sage once scattered across the world."
"If you desire it, I can certainly gift it to you." Prometheus paused briefly, unsurprised by the request. "But those who seek wisdom inevitably pay a price one day."
"It doesn't matter, because I…" Heracles smiled broadly. Finally, after so long, he spoke three simple words: "Fuck it—I don't care!"
Prometheus blinked, momentarily stunned, then broke into hearty laughter.
"That's right! Exactly! That's precisely how I felt back then—that's why I stole the heavenly flame! You truly must have met the Sage!"
He roared with laughter, his Titan form shaking so vigorously beneath the chains that even the mountain trembled in response.
The words were simple, yet the three coarse words vividly conveyed Heracles's determination to Prometheus:
If you want something, seize it.
Fuck it—defy heaven and earth! Fuck it—just don't care!
...
"Looks like Lady Athena has left," came a curious voice within Athens's highest and innermost temple, where translucent curtains fluttered gently, catching sunlight mingled with drifting dust. A small purple-haired head peeked inside, carefully scanning the grand hall.
"Little sister, Lady Athena just defeated Lord Ares and claimed the full authority of war. Naturally, she's off digesting it now!"
"Sister, sister—what does 'digesting' mean?"
"…"
Amid lively chatter, two small, delicate figures followed the purple-haired girl inside.
Their long violet hair cascaded softly against white dresses, porcelain skin faintly shimmering beneath flowing fabric. Their graceful movements were reminiscent of blooming lilies.
Rovi followed closely behind, quietly observing the temple, eyes slightly thoughtful.
"W-welcome…" Beside him, Medusa nervously offered a quiet greeting.
Yet no sooner had she spoken than Stheno and Euryale immediately noticed.
"Medusa, you're secretly talking without telling us again…"
"You know that means punishment, right?"
"I'm sorry!" Medusa hurriedly apologized.
Watching the exchange between these nearly identical "girls," Rovi smiled faintly.
Despite their strict appearance, Stheno and Euryale genuinely loved Medusa, and Medusa loved her sisters in return. Even if she was somewhat afraid of them, she understood their intentions were kind.
This was the pure bond of affection between the three goddesses.
Rovi scanned the temple again.
After the war ended, as the "hero" who had brought victory to Athens, Rovi had naturally been invited here.
Yet the spacious marble hall stood empty.
"Ah… Looks like Lady Athena isn't here. Guess it's up to us to entertain you," said Stheno cheerfully.
"By the way, you're Rovi, right?" asked Euryale.
"He was invited personally by Lady Athena! You should call him Lord Rovi, little sister!"
"Isn't it all the same?"
The lively sisters exchanged playful banter, yet neither strayed far from Medusa's side.
"You three have a very close bond, don't you?" Rovi quietly interjected, feeling moved by the sight.
"Sister, he says we have a close bond?"
"Little sister, do you think we have a close bond?"
"Asking others if your bond is close won't help," Rovi gently interrupted the mirror-like pair again. "You should ask yourselves."
"You talk just like Lady Athena—always saying things nobody can understand," Euryale grumbled unhappily.
"Sister—" Stheno whispered cautiously, "Don't mention Lady Athena's name so casually in her temple."
Turning toward Rovi again, Stheno continued, "Also, Lord Rovi, please don't treat us like children! We've already been alive a long time!"
"At least… several hundred years, I think?" Euryale thoughtfully added.
"Oh, then my apologies. I was born in Uruk, and counting from then, at least a thousand years have passed." Gilgamesh's era dated roughly to the 27th century BCE, while Greece's Age of Heroes was around the 12th or 13th century BCE.
The math checked out.
"Oh… really?" Stheno counted silently on her fingers.
"So, what should we call you?" Euryale's eyes widened. "If you've lived so long and can still fight Lord Ares like that—are you really human?"
"Human potential is endless. Look around—the gods today even rely on humans to fight their wars, don't they?"
"That… seems true?"
The sisters exchanged an amazed glance, discovering mutual delight—as if two children had found a marvelous new toy.
In contrast, Medusa remained silent and far calmer.
Why does it feel like…
Whenever Rovi looked at them, she sensed a faint trace of pity?
She didn't quite understand.
Still, it was certainly well-intentioned.
Medusa naturally felt goodwill toward anyone who showed kindness—exactly why she'd tried to protect Rovi earlier.
Because kindness was rare.
And because they'd once been hurt badly—yet were saved by someone who offered kindness instead.
That gentle figure, lush as the green forests… somehow, the Rovi before her strongly resembled that same person.
"Alright, you three can rest if you're tired. I'll wait here for Athena to return." Lowering his hands, Rovi stood quietly, his linen robe draping his figure. His eyes finally settled upon the statue of Athena at the temple's center.
"Fine." Stheno and Euryale exchanged glances before silently grasping Medusa's hands from either side.
"Let's go eat!"
"Sister, sister, I want what we ate last time!"
"Nope, it's Medusa's turn today—"
"I don't mind skipping…"
"…"
Their crisp, youthful voices gradually faded into the distance, leaving Rovi alone as the sea breeze gently stirred, carrying with it the salty fragrance of the Aegean.
He remained still.
Suddenly, moonlight spilled across the marble floor.
Lifting his gaze toward the quieting world, Rovi thought he saw a gentle figure standing there:
Artemis, the Goddess of the Moon, gazing down at the earth—as though searching for something long lost.
---
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