When the winged Titan brought Flame to the world it was hailed as a victory for mankind. A step toward ruling ourselves. An act of defiance against our creators, who denied us freedom for so long. Songs have been sung in honor of Prometheus, stories told about his love for mankind.

These are lies of the worst kind.

I have seen the true face of Prometheus. He is no winged hero of old, but a scaled serpent in disguise. In the time of my captivity, I discovered his intent. For while the Flame gave us knowledge, it would become a blight on our existence. We were no longer cattle, bound to our nature, we had the Flame. With it, the Titan would use us to destroy the gods and ourselves in the process.

Prometheus knew that with Flame, mankind would not seek to better his lot. We would manufacture weapons of war. We would slaughter the innocent and put our neighbors’ homes to the torch. Flame tricks those who wield it with promises of creation, delivering only destruction in the end. Flame was the Trojan horse and we the poor fools who accepted it.

For months I saw the inner workings of the Titan’s mind as he toyed with me. His own design of what humanity should be. I was not alone then. With stolen Flame he warped us to his liking; more weapons to be used against hated Zues. We were to be false guardians, compelled to sow the seeds of destruction and anarchy amongst those we once belonged. We were given power beyond our design.

But the wrath of the gods caught up with Prometheus before we were complete. Their divine legions cutting us down as Zues himself descended from on high to face the Titan. Those of us not killed at the beginning fought at Prometheus’ side. Not by his will, but our own. As would any who had tasted life, only to have it ripped away. The gods would not be content to allow abominations such as us to live freely.

Our fate was tied to his.

The heavens shook and the earth was torn asunder on that day. Immortals and abominations, the sacred and unjustly condemned, slaughtering one another as powers beyond our understanding settled our fate.

When Prometheus fell, so did our hope for victory.

With a handful of my kind alongside me, we fought our way free, though I know not how. With the blood of man and gods our hands we knew we would be hunted, so we separated. Each of us traveling to the far reaches of the earth, hoping Zues’ rage would relent.

It has not.

The legions of the gods have continued to search for us and I have felt the loss of my brothers and sisters born of Flame. Yet I have tasted what it is to live free. I know the pleasures of life and have set myself against the Titan's design. Perhaps the gods have seen this and thus held their killers at bay because of it.

Perhaps not.

Now I hear tell of one who has set Prometheus free. A bastard son of Zues no less.

I can feel my creator, my tormentor, roam the earth once again. He will seek to finish what he began, sending the world into a new age of darkness.

This cannot be allowed.

I may have been created by Prometheus and stolen Flame, hated by the very gods themselves, but I will not allow the life I’ve come to love be so casually destroyed.

Though it will likely be my end, I will see the Titan chained to stone once more.