This is a short story I used for a uni project.
In the Legends of Man our journey began over three thousand years ago. In the will of an astronaut who sailed among the stars. Worlds upon worlds unknown, even to us, all fell pregnant with the light of his eye. Yet none of it was the world he visualised to make. But that flame is his eyes lighted the path, to a young virgin fit to be seeded. This orphan called him God and he called her Earth.
Through the darkness he descended and into the depths of her bosom he crashed, his behemoth ship taking one final flight to the flames. In the blazing pits of hell he crouched like an animal, on whatever part of the ship that could support his weight. Carefully, he lifted his arms and disconnected his helmet. The bright eye rested in his hands like a child, revealing a focused humanoid face. His left eye bore a moon shaped wound, testimony to a fierce battle.
Silently he stood, reaching up to fifteen feet. His eyes fixed on the translucent dream sleeping within the fire. It was his dream to create life. But like any world there are laws that allow the strong to control the weak. This law states ‘The creation will submit to the creator.’
“Do I dare challenge the gods; my will aligns with theirs for we all see to create. Aye, their forgiveness will not rest on me for this great sin I have committed. Will Prometheus ever find peace?” he said, his deep voice complementing the long unsettling language. This language did not belong to the human tongue nor where they fit to bear it. They were but the inner workings of his thoughts.
“What will be shall be. Just know what I do is an act of love.”
The god of the Gods, Prometheus is qualified in a host of degrees including scholarship. As a child he served as the personal historian of the rebel Lucius, and like his predecessor he too is a revolutionist.
“We are not gods. Lesser forms exalt us because they do not understand. And your corrupted council believes the lie. It’s all an illusion! Mankind will not be your instruments for invasion. For I believe they can surpass you and they deserve a better God…” quickly he catches himself unaware his tongue slipped into the language designed to be English, feeling the transformation he embraces it with a smile and confidence.
“…They will hail in my image. My genetic information will be theirs. In my spirit they will move. And you all will cease to exist in the presence of a race that refuses to worship you. Aye! Gods are worshipped, and you are no God.”
Silence, standing over him like a guardian angel flees. As a roaring hum surges through the black sky in waves. Prometheus hears but refuses to acknowledge. He reaches for a metallic container on the back of his armour and opens it. Inside is a thick silvery substance, the adaptive ingredients for making life suitable to a planet. It is the blood of royalty, at first he has a mind to pour the vial but in disgust he throws it into the fire. As a circular ship descends, filling the entire sky, the darkness makes it impossible to bring anything into detail. Yet he knows it is there, and it’s coming for him.
“This world will know me as God. Soon I will not be one but many. And you will fear this godspecies. Adam will reward you according to your sins and the sins of your generations he will multiply against you. He will curse the earth you walk on and one day… he will slay you.”
With no further words Prometheus leaps into the fire, soon he is consumed and overpowered by the flames. His superiors defeated they return to the stars, waiting for the hand fate to lead the prodigal son back. In the womb of the lava Prometheus grits his teeth and releases no sound in pain. Blood and life passes like time, his genetic material mixing with the blood of Kings and the bacteria of the native planet.
And in the end his dream became our reality. Now we exist. Our father died so that one day we could exceed the gods, then in his name let that day be today.