Ch. 56: The Chains of Prometheus (II)
I stepped forward, my eyes narrowing on Prometheus' aged and withered face. "Are you saying you truly don't know who Pandora is? I thought you knew the name of every human you sculpted," I said, probing, my voice laced with doubt.
Prometheus let out a stifled, rasping laugh, shaking his head. "Mocking me, godling? My children have evolved far beyond my reach. Their faces, their names—like sand slipping through my fingers. How could I remember them all?"
Was he dodging my question? His gaze held no trace of deceit, only weary resignation, but something about his demeanor unsettled me. His ignorance seemed genuine, but why did that only raise more questions?
I tried to ease the tension between us. "I didn't come here to drag up old wounds. I just—how has your time been here, Prometheus?"
