At that moment, as Prometheus laughed, the world within humanity's sight began to shake.
The earth trembled.
The Eagle circling overhead startled. For thousands of years, the giant had lain like a corpse, never making a sound even when it pecked through his skin and tore out his flesh. Why had he suddenly laughed today? But once it understood what Prometheus had said, the Eagle flew into a rage.
How dare a prisoner of the gods call His Majesty Zeus a coward?
It spread its wings and dived with all its strength, intent on making the god who had blasphemed Zeus feel what it was like to have his entrails devoured.
But in the next instant, it saw the god who had not moved in thousands of years break the chains binding him.
Then a withered hand grew larger and larger before its eyes.
Impossible...
The thought flashed through the Eagle's mind. The gods had forged those chains together, and Prometheus had never broken free in thousands of years. How could he do it now? This had to be an illusion.
A heartbeat later, wind roared past. Prometheus's hand brushed the Eagle, sending it crashing into another mountain peak.
It was reduced to a bloody, mangled mess.
Archimedes stared at the scene, dumbfounded. His thoughts were in chaos.
He had always revered Prometheus, the mythical thief of fire, creator of humanity, and father of mankind in the truest sense.
After all, however he looked at it, Prometheus was the god most worthy of the Greeks' worship and faith.
Yet for various reasons, few people in Greece worshipped him. Because the Olympian Gods were hostile to Prometheus, even the authorities dared not encourage his worship or examine the myths to clear his name.
But wasn't what he had just seen rather