Lord of Annihilation

"Is that so?" 

Hearing those words whispered into his ears in a chilling tone, Prometheus' face turned as white as a sheet of paper; as he let out a startled scream.

"AARGH!! I DIDN'T DO IT! IT WAS HIM!!"

Unfortunately, his confession did not help him as Prometheus felt an absolute force strike him in the back of his neck. In the next instant, he felt his entire body become weightless.

'Only ten minutes have passed since I reclaimed my freedom and I've already ended up becoming a ghost,' he inwardly shed tears while closing his eyes.

'Is it the fate of the gifted to be cursed? Lords, why did I have to be born so perfect?' Prometheus internally rued.

"I haven't even fully lived my life yet. I'm not resigned!" he let out a yell.

Seconds passed and Prometheus suddenly noticed something; he could speak.

"I can speak?" He repeated before exclaiming once again, "Wait, I can hear my speech too!!?"

"Why wouldn't you?" A chilling voice resounded from behind him. 

Hearing the same voice that had scared him, speak once again, Prometheus opened his eyes by a tiny crack and looked around.

The corridor was still as dingy and dark as he remembered it to be. The musky smells of wet stone and dry rot were still as pungent as ever. Hell, he could even feel the faint touch of the cold wind as it brushed against his skin.

"I'm not dead?" Prometheus asked himself, before noticing a minor detail that he had missed during his initial survey.

The floor seemed to be farther than usual.

"Did I suddenly grow taller?" he vocalized before immediately striking down his own guess. "Of course not. That would be stupid. It's not yet time for my secondary growth spurt." Very sure of his explanation, he firmly nodded his head.

"Shut up!" The chilling voice finally declared; annoyance apparent in its tone.

"Eeeek!" Letting out a sharp shriek, Prometheus finally realized the precariousness of his situation and turned around.

Standing directly behind him and hoisting him up by the scruff of his neck was a face that was very familiar to Prometheus. 

"IT'S YOU!!" Prometheus screamed at the top of his lungs while pointing his finger at Lucius. 

Just as he was about to follow up on his scream by a series of questions, he noticed the growing look of dissatisfaction on Lucius' face.

Instantly, a fawning smile spread across Prometheus' face as he spoke, "Hee~ey, buddy! Long time no see!~"

"Wow! I have to say, you have not aged a single bit since our last meeting…ten minutes ago. Could you share with me your secret skincare routine? I have these little wrinkles that are starting to creep up into my fa—"

"Shut. Up!" Lucius exclaimed while tightening his grip over Prometheus' neck.

Feeling the choke around his neck grow tighter and his breathing grow strained, Prometheus wisely shut up. As a smart man who could adapt to any situation, he…well, smartly adapted.

"Why did you leave me in there?" Lucius asked, feeling a little salty about being abandoned. 

Hearing his question, Prometheus rapidly blinked his big, watery eyes trying his best to portray the picture of innocence with his face. However, Lucius wasn't the least bit affected by his actions as he continued to menacingly stare at him.

"Uhm…" Prometheus nervously spoke. "Can I talk now?"

Lucius nodded his head. He then suddenly remembered something and added, "Keep it to the point. If I hear you say anything unrelated to the topic, I will kill you." Alongside the threat, he released a tiny portion of his murderous intent.

Feeling Lucius' murderous intent brush against his skin, Prometheus immediately dropped the sly plans of escape that he was cooking up within his heart. 

As much of a genius as he was, Prometheus had one small flaw. A weakness, if you will.

Prometheus…could not fight.

He completely, utterly, unabashedly, unilaterally, without a question, sucked at fighting.

To iterate just how terrible his fighting skills were, let me share a certain dark history involving Prometheus.

One day, this was when he was a Mid-Level Stage 4 entity, Prometheus had gone on a little walk through the capital of the Empire. His walk wasn't exactly voluntary and was more of a forceful order by his father, the Emperor, to have him leave his lab and go outside and touch grass.

Unable to go against the words of his father, Prometheus had accepted his fate and went on a little tour of the capital city. As he was roaming through the streets, he came across a group of children who were playing a very childish game.

After watching them play for a while, Prometheus suddenly let out an uproarious laugh when he saw one of the kids lose to his friend in a very stupid manner. He, being himself, couldn't help but make fun of the losing kid with his eloquent tongue.

Being subjected to harsh criticism and mockery by an unknown stranger, the kid, being the child that he was, could not withhold his anger and attacked Prometheus with his little fists.

Looking at the tiny kid, radiating the power of a Low-Level Stage 3 rush towards him with clenched fists, Prometheus let out an audible snort and faced the child with a single hand.

The result…Prometheus was beaten up to the point where he couldn't even use his legs if he wanted to. All by a single snot-nosed kid who had not even hit his teenage years.

This single event forever turned into a scar, inflicted upon Prometheus and reminded him once again of how terrible his fighting skills were.

Even while facing a child, who was an entire Stage and a minor realm under him, Prometheus could not score a tie, much less a victory.

That was just how terrible he was at fighting.

Back to the main story…

After carefully reorganizing the words inside his head while deleting every bit of extraneous text, Prometheus inhaled a fresh breath of air and explained in the briefest manner possible.

"I left you in there for two main reasons. Firstly, I barely know you. Secondly, Tartarus is a prison solely for imprisoning terrible, horrible people. Now, I'm an exception. But the fact that you were put in there doesn't exactly speak well about your reputation."

"Now, don't get me wrong. I'd love to make a friend who's not a wall or a chair. But to start with a criminal who could very well be a genocidal maniac or worse…yeah, I think I'll stick to my chair," he concluded.

Hearing his explanation, Lucius thought for a few seconds before loosening his grip over Prometheus. The latter, immediately let out an inward sigh of relief and felt the sweating underneath his armpits decrease.

'Thank god, he at least seems to be somewhat stable. Lord knows what'll happen to me if he was insane!' Thinking about this, increased the sweating below his armpits once again.

Just as he was having an internal meltdown, Prometheus heard his captor speak once again. 

This time, the question was something that made him grow serious.

"Do you want to acquire the throne of the Grand Alcana Empire?"  asked Lucius.