"Let's set that aside for now, what are you doing here?"
Pushing aside his wandering thoughts for the moment, Eros turned his attention back to the main issue.
"Obviously, I'm here to conduct follow-up research," Prometheus replied plainly. "After creating humans, someone has to stick around and observe how they're doing. Can't just walk away and call it a day."
"I don't exactly have other tasks on my plate right now. Naturally, I took responsibility for humanity's development."
As she said this, Prometheus cast him a rather pointed look.
According to the future she'd once foreseen, she should have been tied to the Caucasus Mountains by now, quietly awaiting her eventual rescue.
But here she was, wandering the world, disguising herself among humans, continuing her silent surveillance.
She had taught them how to observe the rising and setting of stars, to measure time, to write symbols that conveyed thought.
She instructed them in taming beasts to lessen human labor and how to brew medicines to heal illness and injury.
Though Eros may have granted them wisdom, the groundwork, the education, the cultivation of civilization, had been largely Prometheus's doing.
It was thanks to her that Eros now saw a society already beginning to take shape.
She didn't resent the effort, but there was no denying that her workload had inexplicably multiplied.
"Follow-up research, huh…"
So this was essentially a post-launch review. Maybe even part of deciding whether to reboot humanity or not.
Eros gave her a strange look.
So she's a poor corporate grunt after all.
Athena, with all her connections, had helped create mankind, claimed the credit, then disappeared. All the follow-up had been dumped on Prometheus.
Truly tragic, a loyal cog ground down between the black-hearted CEO Zeus and his nepotistic daughter.
Still, Prometheus didn't seem bitter. She went on, "But I will say, when Athena told me you survived, I was shocked. I didn't expect you to return to the surface so soon."
"I heard you were looking for a ship earlier. Planning to go somewhere?"
Eros waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing big. Just a sudden whim."
"I thought I'd head to the Throne of the Ocean to check on Amphitrite. I'm not really sure what condition she's in right now."
Things had gotten pretty chaotic the last time they'd met. Eros wasn't sure what had happened to her since.
"The Ocean Throne, huh?" Prometheus mused.
"The seas have been relatively calm lately. The Sea King and Queen now split sovereignty down the middle."
"Poseidon… it's hard to say if she's still recovering or just wary of Oceanus. But she hasn't stirred up trouble again."
"As for Amphitrite, she's been staying close to Oceanus all this time, hasn't left his side."
To be honest, Prometheus doubted Poseidon could reclaim her half of the sea's sovereignty.
With Amphitrite backed by a primordial god like Oceanus, Poseidon was at a clear disadvantage, unless Zeus decided to intervene, which didn't seem likely.
Hearing Prometheus's report, Eros felt more at ease.
And now that his concerns for Amphitrite were temporarily settled, other ideas began bubbling up in his heart.
Sure, Eros was a god of universal love, an equal-opportunity romantic, but he especially enjoyed spreading that love around to new and interesting individuals, or goddesses.
"If you need a ship, I happen to have one, with a full crew too. Want to come with me?"
Prometheus didn't pry into Eros's thoughts. She simply offered the invitation.
"You have a ship?"
Eros was stunned. She was a goddess, why would she need a boat?
"Of course. If I'm going to study humans, I need to integrate fully."
"I don't just have a ship, I have a human identity, a documented history of travels across the isles."
Prometheus spoke matter-of-factly.
Her alias was a bona fide human sailor, one who had departed from the Peloponnese and traveled extensively through the archipelagos.
She wasn't a god pretending for fun, she was committed to blending into human society.
She even avoided using divine powers unless absolutely necessary, just to better understand mortal life.
"You're really going all in, huh…"
Eros admired the current state of human development, sure. But that didn't mean he wanted to live like one.
As he'd once said, of all the worst timelines to transmigrate into, historical ones were the most painful. You never knew whether you'd be wiping with sticks or leaves.
Sure, he'd spent more than a decade living like a primitive, but that was then, and this was now.
Giving up magical convenience just to pursue "authenticity"? Eros could only say,
Prometheus, you're seriously hardcore.
He nearly asked, Is your body truly human now? Do you still have to xxxx like mortals do?
But knowing she'd likely walk away and never speak to him again, he wisely kept the question to himself.
"Well then, thanks, Prometheus."
A ready ship and a companionable goddess, Eros wasn't going to say no to that.
"It's no trouble. I was planning to travel and observe humans from different regions anyway."
Then, as if something occurred to her, Prometheus added, "By the way, you can't use your real name anymore. Have you thought of a pseudonym?"
It wasn't just Eros who had to be cautious, Prometheus had her concerns too.
The name "Eros" had spread widely among humans.
The first human. The ancestor of mankind. The weaver, the shepherd, the builder, the planter.
Lover of the King of Gods. Ally of Apollo in the slaying of Python.
Pioneer of navigation, guided by the gods, he had voyaged to the ends of the sea, glimpsed the Final Ocean.
Entangled in affairs with numerous sea nymphs. Connected to Achelous, the river god, and Poseidon herself.
Ultimately, he had fallen to Gaia's monster, Typhon.
These weren't just myths, they were legends Prometheus had personally propagated, forming the pre-history of humanity itself.
And perhaps soon, she'd have to add his Underworld exploits as well.
If he revealed his true name now, mortals would either see him as a tribute act or a literal incarnation of the gods.
Either way, blending in would become impossible.
"A pseudonym, huh…"
Eros paused to think. If he were going to use a disguise…
Should he go with Solomon? Aleister? Merlin?
"No, call me Endymion, the Sorcerer King. That sounds just right."
In the end, he chose something more fitting for Greece.
The name had always stuck with him, thanks to that spellcaster deck. Sure, Endymion was also a figure in Greek myth, but whatever. It was just a name.
And since he was now masquerading as a mage, he no longer had to avoid wearing a mask.
If he was going to cosplay, he'd go all the way.
In an instant, Eros transformed.
A black mask appeared on his face. His linen tunic turned into a deep violet silk robe, inlaid with amethyst and obsidian, etched with mysterious sigils in expensive dyes.
His once-empty hands now held a crescent-shaped staff with a sharp pointed tip.
The transformation left Prometheus exasperated.
"If you don't want my hard-earned crew to mutiny the moment we set sail, I suggest you tone it down."
To humans, obsidian and gems were more valuable than gold. Eros looked like a walking treasure chest.
If he paraded around like this, he'd be swarmed by bandits in no time.
Even with civilization and wisdom spreading, Greece was still a wild and lawless place.
Outside settled towns and villages, robbery was always a risk.
There were no laws or ethics restraining them, only mutual survival kept people from turning on one another.
And that was something Prometheus found particularly frustrating.
Humanity had inherited Eros's brilliance and curiosity, but also his greed and violent impulses.
There were kind souls, yes. But there were also many evildoers. She'd already encountered several pirates on the sea.
"You really need to keep a low profile. Get rid of all those jewels."
Silk robes were fine. But being covered in gemstones was asking for trouble.
Eros had no choice but to comply. He removed the ornaments, leaving only the robe, cloak, and his mask.
Now his appearance was much simpler. Only then did Prometheus nod in approval.
"Come, Endymion. Let's return to the port."
Turning, she led the way back to her ship.
"Wait, don't you need a pseudonym too?"
Eros suddenly thought of something. If he was going by Endymion, then what about Prometheus?
Was he just supposed to keep calling her that?
Prometheus glanced back at him, her expression unreadable.
"No need. I'm not like you. Right now, I'm a thoroughly unknown nobody, just a nymph in the crowd."
Eros's little stunt had torpedoed her fame.
Without the myth of stealing fire or being punished by Zeus, Prometheus had no real renown to her name.
And in this world, reputation meant everything.
Even Tityos, who had been slain by Apollo for disrespecting the gods, still retained followers, because at least his name endured.
"Dead gods may fade, but forgotten gods are worse than worms."
After all, in Greek myth, the gods really did love to gossip, passing down tales from the previous era and even from before humanity was born.
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100 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter
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