Beyond Hades (The Prometheus Wars)

by Luke Romyn

  “That eagle was designed by Hephaestus to eventually destroy Prometheus. It was supposed to consume him fully in order to stop him from regenerating, but he somehow tricked the bird into becoming his servant instead.”

  “How come he can’t die?” asked Wes.

  Zeus shrugged. “We never found out. Personally I think he is simply a mutation of centuries of genetic testing and atmospheric toxins which have somehow created some sort of humanoid with the ability to reproduce organs at will. Like the starfish from your world, or a lizard which can re-grow its tail.”

  “So you reckon Prometheus is a starfish, is that what you’re saying?” asked Wes, the sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

  “No, of course not,” replied Zeus without anger, “but he does have traits similar to those creatures. That he is powerful is beyond question; his ability to shape shift at will is also most impressive. Moreover, according to your story about him being in your world and speaking your tongue, he apparently also has the ability to adopt languages as well. Luckily he can’t take up the Elder-tongue, since this is genetic and can never be otherwise acquired.”

  “So is he the only one of these bastards like that?” asked Wes.

  “The only one we ever knew of,” replied Zeus, gazing out at the battlefield once more.

  “So how do you propose we fight these bastards off?” asked Wes.

  “Fight them off?” asked Zeus, seemingly shocked by the concept. “Our first war against the Titans decimated my people to the point you see today. Mount Olympus is the largest settlement of people in Olympia, though there are other settlements within a few days’ travel. However, they are of no aid to us at this time and we now have fewer than a thousand warriors to fight off forty times that number from a race which thrives on war and death. We managed to defeat them once through good fortune and skill. Now we will be lucky if we survive this day.”

  “Always good to be optimistic,” said Wes with a slight sneer.

  “I am open to suggestions,” countered Zeus.

  “So this is it? We just fight until everyone’s dead?”

  Zeus merely stared at him calmly, and Wes cursed. Talbot moved beyond the duo and over to the crenellated battlement, leaning on the wall and gazing out. What he saw made his stomach clench.

  Row upon row of Titan soldiers, covered from head to toe in black armor. Their weapons varied from swords to wicked-looking spears and strange, boomerang-like weapons made from the same metallic substance their armor was crafted from.

  The minotaurs, none of which wore armor, were bunched around the breach in the wall, trying to force a way through the barriers by brute strength. Talbot saw huge ladders being brought in from the rear of the attackers. Judging their position they would take at least half an hour to reach the front of the army. He shook his head at the obvious disorganization of the Titan force; there seemed to be nobody in charge of the logistics and from what Talbot could see there were no supplies. Each Titan relied on what he could carry, with no baggage train containing food or extra weapons. Against a host of equal numbers ready for a prolonged siege, these warriors would have been ill-prepared.

  But no amount of disorganization on the part of their enemies could help the Olympians now. Talbot scanned the wall and saw around seven hundred defenders remained of the original thousand. Three hundred dead – a third of their force – and the battle proper had not yet been engaged. Staring out at the force of Titans, Talbot could understand Zeus’s resignation.

  Archers were shooting into the ranks of the Titans, but most of the attackers carried huge black shields, and the arrows were deflected harmlessly. Sometimes they would ricochet off a shield and hit one of the Titans, but their armor seemed made of a substance which protected them from the Olympian technology, and few were injured.

  The projectiles from the catapults were a different story altogether.

  The semi-circular missiles launched by the catapults smashed through the rear ranks of the Titans, decimating them without mercy. There was some sort of explosive effect to the barrel-sized projectiles, which blew them apart on impact. The results within the tightly packed ranks of the Titans were devastating. The Titan army was now near enough that the catapults were becoming ineffective. At a distance, the catapults were incredibly accurate and fantastically destructive. Close up, however, they were almost useless, and couldn’t hit anything closer than three hundred yards. As the attacking warriors realized this, they pushed in nearer to the wall, negating the effectiveness of the weapons.

  They needed a way to use the power of the catapult projectiles without the catapults themselves.

  Talbot spun around, eyes zeroing in on the last of the Hecatonchires.

  “Briareus,” he called. “I need you.”

  The Hecatonchires glanced at Zeus who nodded his approval. Briareus moved over to Talbot.

  “What you want?” asked Briareus roughly.

  “Can you throw those projectiles?” Talbot pointed at the glowing barrels attached to the Catapult nearby.

  Briareus snorted from several noses, as though the question were beneath him. “Where me throw?”

  “At the enemy!” replied Talbot incredulously.

  Briareus lumbered over to the nearest catapult and grabbed one of the barrel-like containers. The hissing and spitting power encircling the projectile seemed to have no direct effect upon the massive Hecatonchires, and he lifted the projectile high before hurling it into the midst of the attacking horde bunching near the wall. It exploded instantly, throwing perhaps a hundred Titans high into the air, splitting their armor like tinfoil.

  “Do you think you can do that for a while, big guy?” asked Talbot.

  Briareus mumbled something incoherent from a couple of his heads before picking up three barrels and hurling them into the Titans, several of his other heads chortling as they blew the attackers apart. Within moments, barrels were being hurled into the attacking force at a faster rate than they could retreat, interspersed with the maniacal laughter of Briareus.

  Bodies of Titans flew everywhere, and the results were devastating. In the space of a few minutes, almost ten thousand Titans were killed or so badly wounded they would not fight again. Soon, the only ones left near the wall were the minotaurs near the....

  “BRIAREUS! DON’T –!” Talbot began to shout.

  But he was too late. Briareus grabbed five explosive projectiles and hurled them into the middle of the minotaurs, all of which were trying to smash their way through the temporary blockade. Half of the beasts gathered there were instantly blown to pieces –

  – along with the Olympian barricades.

  Pieces of the reinforced structure flew in all directions, and the Titans roared in triumph. The remaining horde of almost thirty thousand warriors surged toward the fifteen-foot breach as Olympian defenders rushed to meet them and protect their beloved city.

  Talbot barked a swift order at Briareus to stop throwing the explosive barrels, and indicated the Hecatonchires should follow him as he chased Wes down toward the base of the wall in an attempt to stop the influx of Titans.

  ***

  The Titans were pushing and jostling to get through the breach, and Wes fought side by side with Talbot in the front line. The huge Titans were decked out in their full armor, making them even more daunting. Wes slashed into them with Chiron’s sword, the blade carving through the Titanic armor like a laser through cellulite.

  Wes was highly impressed by Talbot’s willingness to fight. For a man who’d led a very sheltered and protected life of study, and with absolutely no type of experience in violent situations, he was doing pretty well.

  Which was to say: Wes only had to stop someone chopping off Talbot’s head every thirty seconds as opposed to every second.

  The Olympians fought well, their glowing swords cutting down at least three Titans for every Olympian to fall, but it wouldn’t be enough. It wasn’t even close to being enough. Soon the Titans would force them back far enough for their
numbers to encircle the Olympians, and then they would be sliced to ribbons in moments.

  Wes swiftly called out to Talbot who nodded. They stepped back into the warriors behind them, allowing others to take their place in the front line while they made their way to where Zeus stood, some fifty yards from the fighting, the enormous Briareus beside him once more.

  “We have to retreat,” advised Wes, steadying his breath.

  “Where to?” asked Zeus. “The only place even remotely defensible is the great Council Hall at the center of the city,” he pointed to the domed building where Wes and Talbot had first met the leader of the Olympians, “but we cannot hold out there for long.”

  “At least your people would stay alive for a bit longer. I mean, it’s not like there’s any other option, unless they can fly off the mountain,” replied Wes. “Send messengers out to the people left in your city to scramble their arses up to your main hall.”

  Zeus pondered the idea momentarily, until the screams of the dying seemed to convince him and he nodded. Raising a hand, he summoned a messenger over to him. “Hermes,” said Zeus – Wes thought Talbot’s eyes would pop out of his head – “I need you to round up the remaining survivors and get them to the Council Hall, but tell them nothing more. I want no one to panic.”

  Hermes nodded and sprinted off into the city, his speed impressing Wes. “Young guy has got some pace to him, eh?” he mused.

  Zeus looked at him oddly, but merely nodded politely, refraining from comment. Talbot grinned.

  “Anyway,” continued Wes, “we need some sort of distraction so we can get these boys away from the fighting.”

  He gazed around, looking for inspiration. Finally his eyes fixed on something, and he swiftly outlined his plan. Talbot gasped, and Zeus’s eyes widened in astonishment as Wes finished explaining what he wanted to do, but he managed to convince them.

  “We don’t have time to argue about it,” snapped Wes, scanning the Olympian troops and seeing there were only about three hundred and fifty left. “I need fifty of your boys along with handy here.” He indicated Briareus.

  Zeus didn’t look convinced, but with little other option he finally agreed to the plan. The fifty Olympians left the battlements, and Wes explained what they had to do. Some looked shocked at the plan, but none argued when they saw Zeus was supporting the idea.

  Once Wes had finished explaining, the Olympians raced off to put his plan into action, and Wes turned to Talbot. “I need you to do something also,” he said.

  “What is it?” asked Talbot.

  “I need you to live.”

  Talbot looked shocked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Exactly what I just said; I need you to live. In fact all of Earth, if not all of everything, needs you to live. That fucking rift back home is just going to keep getting bigger until the rest of the universe gets sucked into it. If I get killed, you need to take this sword and find a way home to stop that from happening, okay?”

  Talbot looked set to argue, but saw the look in Wes’s eyes and merely nodded. “But that’s not going to happen,” he said as Wes began to turn. “You’re going to come up with an incredible plan which will save the both of us.”

  Wes looked around at the carnage and thousands of black-armored warriors fighting to gain entrance into the city.

  “Yeah... right,” he muttered.

  ***

  Talbot heard a ferocious roar and glanced toward the breach in time to see three minotaurs crash through the Olympian defenses, blood dripping from their hands and maws.

  Instantly, everything became chaos. Olympian warriors who had only moments ago seemed so powerful were beset by confusion. Some turned to attack the minotaurs who had broken through their front ranks, only to be swiftly cut down from behind by Titans. Others maintained their forward focus, but were let down when their comrades succumbed to panic and weren’t there to protect their flank. It swiftly became a rout.

  With the expert eye of a veteran soldier, Wes instantly saw what was happening. “RETREAT!” he roared over the cacophony of battle. “RETREAT!”

  The cry was taken up by others and soon the defenders turned and fled. There could be no organized withdrawal of troops, for as soon as the defenders allowed the Titans beyond the constrictions of the breach they would be overrun in seconds. All they could do was sprint for their lives.

  “NOW!” yelled Wes to Briareus.

  The enormous Hecatonchires hefted five explosive barrels and hurled them directly at five separate points along the base of the huge wall – the same section along which the fifty Olympians had placed hundreds more explosive barrels.

  BOOOOOOMMM!!!

  The detonation knocked Talbot backwards, along with Zeus and Wes where they stood halfway up the hill to the Council Hall. A massive chain reaction began as the explosions ignited the next set of barrels and suddenly the entire wall – a hundred feet high and almost a mile long – shattered spectacularly.

  Most of the Olympians had made it to a safe distance and were merely knocked over in the blast, but the Titans pouring through the wall stood no chance. Thousands were obliterated in an instant by the power of the explosive barrels, thousands more, beneath tons of stone shrapnel.

  Half of the enemy force was dead instantly.

  Half of those remaining were injured beyond recovery.

  Every single minotaur was wiped away in that one bold action.

  And yet it still wouldn’t be enough....

  As the smoke cleared, Talbot rose to his feet alongside Wes and Zeus. Several thousand Titans clambered out of the dust and carnage. After staring around at the slaughter of their comrades, the surviving Titans unleashed a roar which made the hairs on the back of Talbot’s neck stand on end. The entire invading force surged forward.

  “Time to go,” snapped Wes.

  All three turned and bolted toward the perceived safety of the Council Hall at the top of the rise. Olympian soldiers pounded along behind them. About a hundred yards further back poured a wall of black-armored Titans, hungry for vengeance against those who had killed their fallen comrades. No more than a hundred and fifty Olympian warriors survived, and Talbot wondered how many civilians had made it to the Hall. His breath came in ragged gasps as his feet pounded ceaselessly up the hill, adrenaline surging into his muscles every time he glanced behind at the mass of bloodthirsty warriors chasing them.

  They made it to the Council Hall, leaping up the stairs and through the open doors, turning to urge the last Olympian warriors to follow them in before they slammed the thick, reinforced doors, dropping the solid-steel lock-bar into place.

  “Well, that should hold them for a while,” muttered Wes.

  A roar resonated from outside the hall and almost immediately a huge BOOM! reverberated throughout the hall. The main doors revealed cracks at their hinges, and the walls themselves showed points of weakness.

  “Holy shit!” shouted Wes. “What the hell do they have with them that could do that?”

  “Oh no....” muttered Zeus.

  “What is it?” demanded Wes.

  “I fear they have with them a creature known as a neades. We have never encountered one before, but have heard that their roar is powerful enough to split the very ground.”

  “And doors too, apparently,” said Wes.

  “Yes,” agreed Zeus.

  Talbot glanced around the Council Hall. There was no exit besides the huge main doors. The only other doors in the place led to....

  “Zeus,” he said hurriedly. “We need to open the rift into Hades.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We need to open the rift and send your people through to safety. It’s the only chance they have!”

  Zeus seemed to contemplate the idea, but another roar from the neades, and the subsequent thickening of the cracks in the door, convinced him swiftly and he nodded.

  “You must open the gate,” he said to Talbot. “I need to explain things to my people.”


  Talbot nodded and strode immediately to the adjoining room, containing the gate controls. His hands began touching the odd symbols, moving with increasing speed. Once, he almost faltered as the roar of the neades jolted through the Hall, but he continued until a loud clap sounded and the rift burst open.

  Talbot turned to call out to Zeus, but a disturbance in the surface of the rift caught his eye, making him pause. Cautiously, he approached the swirling nexus.

  In the center of the rift was a distinct imperfection which drew Talbot’s attention. It was like a ripple upon a lake caused by an insect flitting across the surface, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was.

  Talbot stepped closer, peering at the ripple.

  He squinted, leaning further in for a better look.

  It was almost as though....

  Something burst through the thin film, and Talbot leaped backwards in terror, but he was not fast enough. Whatever it was that came through, it landed on top of him, and he fell to the ground, striking blindly and yelling out at the top of his voice. He was forced to his belly, and his arms were swiftly pinned to his sides, restraining him effectively.

  Footsteps came running, and Talbot heard several gasps.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he heard Wes shout.

  “It’s a long story,” grunted the figure atop him, a familiar-sounding voice. “And I don’t like the welcome much. Not when the one with the power of the Elder-tongue decides to attack me after everything I did to aid him; when I finally make it back through to my home world.”

  Talbot was lifted to his feet, and he spun around.

  “Heracles!” he gasped. “How –?”

  “Explanations will have to wait,” said Heracles. “I assume the Titans are attacking?” The question was directed at Zeus, who stared at his son in wonder before moving to embrace him. The leader of the Olympians stepped back, staring once more at his son before he nodded mutely, tears glistening in his eyes.