Craby walked up to the boulder—the very one Sisyphus had been pushing up the mountain—and, with what little strength he had, began to push it in Sisyphus's place.
"L-Lord Sisyphus… n-now I'm p-pushing the boulder… i-in your place… s-so… the curse… d-doesn't apply to you… a-anymore… y-you… can use this time… t-to think of an escape plan…" Craby said in a trembling voice. His legs and arms were shaking violently—it was clear the boulder wasn't light.
Craby had figured it out: for Sisyphus to regain his mental clarity, he had to stop touching the cursed boulder. So Craby took on the burden himself, hoping to buy Sisyphus some time to think of a way to break free.
Sisyphus let out a deep sigh, clearly irritated. "So this… is your big idea to lift my curse?"
"Y-yes, s-sir…" Craby stammered, nearly out of breath.
Sisyphus rolled his eyes and shook his head. "And then what? Even if I do come up with a plan… what makes you think I could carry it out? As long as the curse remains, I can't leave this place. Any plan I make would be useless—pointless."
"B-but… m-maybe… if you combine your great mind with the talents of me and my friend… maybe we can help you find a way to break the curse," Craby offered, though his limbs were clearly weakening.
"Watch out, Kinos!" I shouted—my voice echoing across the rocky slopes.
Craby's left leg gave out, and he began to slip. I rushed in and caught the boulder just in time, pushing it with him. Barely. We had narrowly avoided disaster.
It was heavy— that was the first thought that pierced my mind. Far too heavy for just the two of us. Only Sisyphus could push this thing easily. He was born for it.
I turned to look behind us. Sisyphus still stood unmoving, offering no assistance at all. He simply watched us suffer under the weight.
I was starting to seriously dislike the guy.
Sisyphus looked down on Craby with a sneer. "So tell me… what exactly is this 'ability' of yours that's supposed to help me escape this damned laborer's curse?"
"I-I… can transform into a crab," Craby said, trying to sound proud.
Sisyphus slapped his forehead. "Oh, gods… you can turn into a crab. And what then? You'll use your eight legs to help me push the rock?"
"W-what's wrong with that? This ability helped me beat the giant hound Cerberus!" Craby said, now a bit more confident. With me sharing the weight, he'd regained some strength.
Sisyphus curled his lip. "Beating Cerberus, huh? That's not impressive. Even a tiny girl got through the gates of Erebus. Doesn't mean much." He was referring to Psyche, Cupid's bride.
"Well… then maybe my friend's ability will impress you. He runs super fast—even Cerberus couldn't catch him," Craby quickly added, trying to shift the spotlight to me when his own skills failed to impress.
Sisyphus eyed me up and down, then scoffed. "That one? Please. There's no way a background character like him would be blessed with something extraordinary. Don't insult my intelligence. The Fates would never waste a powerful destiny on some disposable extra."
His words made my blood boil.
"Kinos… I'm done here. Let's leave this jerk to his eternal rock."
"Calm down, Sept…" Craby said, trying to defuse the situation.
Sisyphus whistled cheerfully. "Well, since you've humbled yourself before me and asked so nicely… it would be quite heartless of me to send you away empty-handed, wouldn't it? All right then… I'll help you."