Prometheus's son

“I am displeased.” Prometheus said, looking down at his son. “Do you find so much fault in my design? Do you so despise my creation, my life’s work, for whom I spent millenia tied to a rock for, that you would attempt to create an entirely new lifeform for a simple class?”

The boy stood up rapidly, turning to face Prometheus. “Why does it Always have to be about YOU! You know what they call me at school? They call me Birdbait, after my dear old dad, who was chained to a ROCK getting his LIVER pecked out for helping an Inferior! And it was you who made them so they needed that help! And THEN, oh no, that’s not all, that’s not enough for Prometheus the Dunce! You then make them give you most of the sacrifices! And you wonder why I want to make my own creature?! I don’t want to be known as Birdbrain, son of the biggest dunce in Asgard!”

Prometheus stood up, his throne sliding back over the smooth rock floor. “Until you learn some manners, I am exiling you to Midgard!” The boy walked icily out if the room.

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