The Prometheus Spark

The wind hadn't even stopped howling before the cave filled with unnatural light.

It wasn't sunlight—too clean, too sharp. Colton raised an arm against the brilliance. The warmth that followed didn't belong in any mountain—it carried the scent of scorched air and old fire.

Apollo stepped forward, silent, radiant. His cloak flared in the windless dark. He looked Colton up and down like he was checking for broken parts.

"You look like hell," he said.

"I feel like it too," Colton muttered.

Apollo gave the slightest nod. "The other one's safe. I brought him ahead."

Colton's jaw tightened. "Kevin? Where?"

"Hestia's sanctuary. You need to move before something else decides to sniff around."

Then came the flash.

The cave vanished.

Stone walls and steady firelight surged into view. Hearths lined the chamber, glowing warm. The air was thick with woodsmoke and something baking. The hum of Hestia's magic was soft and constant, like the heartbeat of a living place.

Colton stumbled forward, boots clicking on polished stone—but there was no ache in his ribs this time. No phantom bruises. His healing gift had done its work.

Then he saw him.

Kevin sat near the main hearth, wrapped in a gray blanket. Knees tucked tight to his chest. Eyes fixed on the fire like he was still seeing something else—something buried deep. His fingers twitched now and then, but he didn't look up.

Colton took a cautious step closer and instinctively reached for the pendant around his neck—Prometheus's relic. It always glowed silver when safe. Turned black when something evil was near.

Now it flickered.

Silver. Black. Silver again. Then black once more.

Like it didn't know what to make of Kevin.

Colton frowned.

"You got him out," a voice said from the archway.

Colton turned.

His mom stood there, arms crossed, eyes sunken from worry but locked on him like she'd never look away again.

Colton's voice cracked. "Mom."

He crossed the room in a rush and pulled her into a hug. She wrapped around him like she'd been waiting to breathe.

"I heard you," he whispered. "Through the orb. I heard every word."

She squeezed tighter. "I never knew if it reached you."

"It did. Your word helped me more than you know…"

They stood like that a few moments longer. Then her eyes shifted to Kevin.

"He hasn't moved," she said.

Colton looked over. "Something got into him. Worse than the Underworld. Something deeper."

He crouched beside Kevin and lowered his voice. "Kev. We're out. We're back."

Kevin blinked. Just once.

"I haven't really slept," he whispered.

Colton tilted his head. "You don't have to right now. Just rest."

Kevin shook his head slowly. "I mean… since the Shade Lord pulled me out. It's like I never came all the way back. Like part of me stayed in that thing's hands."

Colton stayed beside him. "You're here now."

Kevin didn't answer. His stare stayed locked on the fire.

Their silence stretched until his mom knelt beside them, her voice soft but solid. "You're safe. You're both safe now."

Kevin's blanket rustled as he pulled it tighter. "It's warm, but I'm still cold."

Apollo appeared near the wall, arms folded. "He hasn't slept since I brought him here. Just stared at the flames. Didn't speak till now."

The pendant on Colton's chest flickered again—then finally settled back into silver.

"Let's get some rest," his mom said. "There's nothing more to do tonight."

One by one, they drifted into side chambers—stone beds, heavy furs, the quiet hum of protective wards. Colton laid down and stared at the stone ceiling until sleep took him like a blow.

Charcoal scratching on parchment woke him.

Colton sat up, groggy but whole. The fire was still low and steady, casting flickering light across the sanctuary walls.

He followed the sound.

Kevin sat cross-legged in the center of the hall, surrounded by a sea of torn parchment. His fingers were black with charcoal. Dozens of drawings lay scattered around him, each one jagged and fast, like the ideas had to get out before they rotted.

Colton crouched and picked one up.

Chains. Long, thick, and taut, wrapped around the bones of a canyon. Another showed a gate—massive, carved from bone and rusted iron, bolts hammered deep into stone. Strange symbols lined the arch.

Then he saw it.

A helmet. Ancient. Spiked and sharp-edged, shadow curling off its shape.

The Helm of Darkness.

Colton's stomach dropped. His hand went to his chest.

He hadn't thought about it—not since the Underworld.

He pulled his shirt down and looked.

The brand was still there—just above the spark. Jagged edges. Black scar-like ink, shaped into the Helm.

"Apollo," he called.

The god stepped in almost instantly, like he'd been nearby all along.

Colton held up the sketch, then tugged his shirt aside. "He gave it to me. Hades. Right before I left."

Apollo narrowed his eyes. "So he gave you one."

Colton nodded. "Didn't ask. He just burned it into me and said, 'You might need this.'"

Apollo stepped closer, inspecting the shape. "I recognize it. The Helm. Invisibility, if it's real."

"I didn't ask for it," Colton said. "But it felt… honest. Like he meant it."

"Hades doesn't lie," Apollo said. "But that doesn't make his intentions clear."

"You gave me two brands," Colton said. "Hermes gave me one. Why's his different?"

"Because he's not like us," Apollo answered. "Hades doesn't hand out power. If he gave it, it's because he thinks you'll need it. Or he needs you to need it."

Colton glanced down again, then focused.

He didn't know how or why—but the brand responded.

The room blurred. Shadows deepened. Heat drained away. Even the fire seemed to stop crackling.

Colton looked down.

Gone.

He wasn't there. No hands. No body. Just breath and presence.

Then the sensation vanished.

He flickered back into existence with a gasp.

Apollo's brow furrowed. "So it works."

"Yeah. I didn't even know what I was doing."

Apollo stared hard at the mark. "It's real. Powerful. But there's a reason Hades gave it now. Be cautious."

"I owe him a favor."

Apollo's jaw tensed. "That's what I was afraid of."

Colton didn't respond.

Kevin spoke before anyone else could.

"I think… he's still alive."

Colton turned. "Who?"

Kevin pointed at another drawing.

A man. Massive. Bound in chains. Kneeling in a scorched canyon with ruined stone pillars rising behind him.

"I don't know how I know," Kevin said. "But I think that's Hercules."

Colton bent to pick up another drawing.

A girl.

Dark hair, sharp eyes. Something ancient in her face. Drawn with more care than the others. Familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

He didn't say anything, but the image stuck.

Then the sanctuary door creaked open behind them.

Feathered sandals touched stone. Silver robes rippled like water in moonlight.

Hermes stepped in with a grin.

"Well," he said, scanning the drawings. "Looks like I missed a hell of a party."