Beneath the skies of Olympus, the divine hall thundered with merriment. Goblets of ambrosia clinked, music enchanted the air, and laughter echoed like celestial thunder.
The Olympians were in high spirits, celebrating the punishment of the so-called traitor—Prometheus.
In fact, they never really cared about the flame, especially Zeus, as the flame was useless to him anyway.
However, he hated the fact that someone dared to steal from him, ignoring his majesty.
So punishment must be served.
After that, they went back to their daily parties.
But one god was absent.
Far away, on the peak of a grand and tall mountain, where not even gods would dare to casually climb, Hades stood beside the chained Titan of Foresight.
Prometheus was bound to a jagged monolith, thick adamantine chains wrapping around his limbs, gleaming with divine power.
His body was weakened, his divine form dulled and gaunt from the draining sentence. Yet his smile had not faded.
