A desolate wilderness steeped in deathly miasma. Amid the gray fog, a jagged, precipitous peak rose sharply, towering into the clouds.
Along the rugged mountain path, a tiny figure shackled with runic restraints pushed a massive, pitch-black boulder uphill.
Yet just as the boulder was about to reach the summit, it was seized by some inescapable law and sent rolling back down toward the foot of the mountain. Thunderous rumbles echoed along its descent, as if mocking the prisoner's futile struggle.
Half-collapsed on the slope, the figure stared wearily at the boulder that had fallen all the way back down. Just as he was about to lie off to the side and steal a brief rest, an invisible resonance of rule-bound power surged through him. Pain clawed straight at his soul, making his facial muscles twitch. He muttered a few habitual curses and, with a thoroughly sour expression, trudged back to the starting point to begin yet another round of punishment.
Clearly, the earlier noise had come from here.
Near the starting point at the foot of the mountain, a jailer clad in a black cloak stood holding a jug of wine, watching the sinner's forced labor with evident interest.
What was more, the relationship between guard and convict seemed oddly amicable. After the stone-pusher rolled back down with a grim face, a pale hand even emerged from beneath the cloak, offering him a cup of wine as consolation.
Just as the convict downed the wine with gusto and prepared to continue his usual daily goal of a hundred round trips, the surrounding mist churned and parted. A man with shoulder-length black hair and crimson, vertical pupils walked over, clapping his hands with a smiling expression.
Tsk. If I'm not mistaken, this must be that famous scene from Greek mythology. Sisyphus being punished by pushing a boulder. Interesting.
This man was the founder and king of Corinth. He once bound Death itself, leaving the world without mortality. He sold dirt on Zeus's abduction of another man's daughter to the river god Asopus, trading it for a sacred spring that flowed year-round for Corinth. After being dragged to the Underworld, he deceived Hades with honeyed words, begging for three days to settle his affairs and promising sacrifices in return. The moment he returned to the mortal realm, he promptly went back on his word and refused to come back.
He had played several major Greek gods like fools.
But debts like that always had to be paid.
After Sisyphus was finally captured, the gods punished this irreverent, cunning wretch by forcing him to push a boulder to the mountaintop. Every time, the stone would roll back down just short of the summit, rendering all his effort meaningless. And so he was condemned to repeat the task endlessly, until his soul and will were worn down by the dull agony of it all.
Come to think of it, this guy and Samael's alias, Theseus, were cut from the same cloth. Both were outrageously bold and thoroughly criminal in the eyes of the gods.
From far away, the ancient serpent took a slow breath in and caught a scent from the other man that stirred an odd sense of kinship.
Mm. Strong. Pure. The unmistakable stench of a first-rate scumbag.
"So my deeds and reputation have spread this far already? That's honestly a little exciting."
The prisoner, with tousled golden hair and facial features carrying an androgynous beauty, narcissistically touched the single golden gemstone earring hanging from his left earlobe. Leaning against the boulder, he smiled and blinked his fox-like eyes, casually pointing to the side.
"But listen, my friend, I don't mind you watching the show. It gives me a chance to rest a bit longer."
"Just be careful that the one watching doesn't end up becoming the show."
Was that… a warning?
Interesting.
The corner of Samael's lips curled upward as his gaze followed Sisyphus's subtle gesture, landing on the black-cloaked overseer nearby.
"I plan to stay here for a while, wait for a friend, and ask for directions. This fellow beside me seems quite welcoming. As for you, I assume you won't mind either, Lord Thanatos?"
Beneath the hood, the middle-aged god with a cold expression and somber aura twitched, then gave a stiff nod.
With just that simple motion, the deathly fog around him boiled and trembled. From within his body came the grating sound of bones and muscles rubbing together like rusted gears.
After receiving such a "friendly" response, the cross-shaped starlight pupils in Samael's eyes gradually settled back to normal. He nodded in satisfaction, smiling.
Not bad. The winds of the Underworld really are straightforward. Even Death himself knows how to treat outsiders with courtesy. Very professional.
Well now. Looks like someone remarkable has shown up.
Sisyphus shot a sidelong glance at the Death god who clearly dared not act rashly. A glint flashed in his eyes, and his smile immediately grew brighter, warmer, and far more sincere.
"Looking for directions? I know this place well. Wherever you want to go, I can take you."
With a mouth that never stops spewing nonsense, who would believe a word you say?
Samael, himself no stranger to past offenses, silently scoffed at the polite offer from Sisyphus, a notorious habitual swindler. He didn't take the bait. Instead, while waiting for his companions to arrive, he asked with visible interest.
"You're just a mortal. Why go out of your way to toy with the gods? With your intelligence, you should understand the consequences of that kind of irreverence."
"How is that irreverent?" Sisyphus shot back, looking utterly wronged. "I'm the most devout person you'll ever meet!"
"You see, I merely made use of the deception and cunning the gods themselves bestowed upon humanity. The more successful I am, the more it proves just how excellent their creation truly is.
"And the more excellent we are, the greater the gods' achievements become, and the more exalted their existence appears.
"So really, I'm just expressing my highest respect for those great creators of Olympus, in a somewhat special way.
"If they don't feel honored, fine. But throwing me into hell as punishment? That's just petty."
Samael looked at the smooth-talking fraud with keen interest. He patted the dark boulder by Sisyphus's feet, his gaze carrying a deeper meaning.
"Day after day, suffering through this pointless labor. Do you regret it?"
Sisyphus's tirade cut off at once. A smile spread across his face.
"Pointless? I think it's fulfilling. I'm proud of it. As long as I'm here, there's always something for me to do.
"And in my eyes, what I'm pushing isn't just a boulder. It's a monument to humanity breaking its shackles and mocking the gods. That's the greatest accomplishment of my life."
Samael froze for a moment. He studied Sisyphus again and again, then suddenly burst into loud, unrestrained laughter.
"Interesting. Very interesting. Come on, then. Show me your monument one last time. After that, I'd like to invite you to join my team and serve as my guide."
As he spoke, the ancient serpent raised his hand and placed it on Sisyphus's shoulder. Golden ripples etched with cuneiform symbols spread outward. With a sharp crack, the shackles at the prisoner's feet shattered, and the silver-white chain entwined around his soul collapsed and dispersed as well.
The curse of fate… lifted?
Sisyphus rolled his wrists, a trace of surprise crossing his face. He glanced thoughtfully at the silent Death standing nearby, then smiled and nodded.
"As you wish, my dear employer."
The convict took a deep breath and, once again, for the final time, began pushing the boulder toward the summit. His movements were unusually slow and careful, his face carrying both nostalgia and joy, as though he genuinely relished the act.
Sisyphus. A possibility of humanity surpassing the gods? The Areopagus could use an employee this interesting.
The eighty-eight constellations are still short on people. I can train him properly later. But the Sagittarius Cloth reserved for the Goddess's personal guard is out of the question.
Back at the starting point, Samael stroked his chin and muttered to himself with a mischievous grin.
At the same time, the deathly mist over the wilderness surged as Heracles, Atalanta, and the rest of their companions arrived to regroup.
...
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