LOADING...

A little bug walked through the dark halls of the castle. Fodder was quite content. It had finished much of the chores that had to be done. It washed the windows, swept the floors, did the dishes, sorted the mail, laundered the dirty clothing, et cetera. The furnaces were cleaned of soot and fed with coal. The growing vats washed and flushed, and the assemblies were wiped and oiled.

In its hand was a silver tray bearing plates and bowls of lavish food. Steaming pumpkin minestrone, sizzling honeyed ham, and luscious petit fours. It marched down the stone stairs with firm steps, stepping through darkness without fear.

Deeper down the stairs Fodder went with hot foods in hand. Entering the dark basements in which Prometheus found homely. Lead pipes protruded from the walls like roots. Moss grew from the medieval walls like grass and weeds on a pavement.

Even deeper down did Fodder go, and it came to an antechamber. The room was furnished in a spartan way; minimal decor, and simple wooden furniture. A desk with a simple electric lamp stood in one side, holding neatly folded apparel. In the forefront of the chamber was a grand portal made of wood braced with stainless steel. Steel flowed in swirls and waves as it was screwed into the wood, seeming ready to spill off the door when noone will be looking.

Fodder plopped the meal onto the desk before peeking into the great portal. Cool humid air flowed out the opening. Beyond the door was a circular arena with high vaulting walls lit passively by electric sconces. Water trickled from the cracked pipes that went in and out of the walls and flowed into the moat that hugged the edges of the chamber.

"Master Prometheus, your food is ready," the insect softly announced. Prometheus turned his snake eyes upon it.

Prometheus relaxed from his tense stance. He lowered the silver blade in his hand which was glowing with sinister green light. The sandy ground of the little arena was filled trenches and gouges made the power of the unholy sword. The chamber reeked of ozone from the hard-light projectors creating lifelike projections for hours on end.

Prometheus grimaced, but said nothing. He fixed the robe that was a drenched in what appears to be sweat before taking strides out of the room. The sword in his hand pulsed, seemingly revolted to see the action end.

Prometheus gazed upon the food that was carefully crafted to his taste. Fodder stood a fair distance from him, appearing submissive.

Prometheus grabbed the meal by the metal tray, and he began walking toward the bin in the corner, and he flipped the contents of the tray into the bin. Fodder almost flinched, but it kept its head low.

"I'm not hungry," Prometheus said flatly, and then turned away. "Fodder, from now on, please reschedule my afternoon snack into 4:00 p.m."

Prometheus gingerly slipped out his garments. Fodder ignored the snake getting naked before it like a loyal slave.

He dropped his dirty clothes into a chute, and began to change into the clean clothing that was reserved. He sheathed his saber into its scabbard. His yellow-green scales glistened in the low light. Moisture dripped from his lithe body. A forked tongue flitted out his mouth for a moment. Fodder ignored his naked master as he changed.

"Fodder, anything to report?" Prometheus said with a firm voice. He did some final adjustments to his new rainrobe and trousers.

"Should I begin with minor details or major ones?"

"Begin with the minor ones."

"General Winter has stayed in Gardenton longer than initially projected. Agent Coil has been reported to have acquired debilitating injuries."

"Hmm. Go on."

"Hero's Prophecy has been sighted in Chasmland. Agent Fable has also been sighted in Chasmland. Gudmúndr has reportedly charmed Hero; Agent Christmas is on the case."