"R-really?" Craby's face lit up with joy.
"But I'll need to think for a bit… about how to make your miraculous eight-legged powers and… hmm… your friend's so-called skill… actually useful," Sisyphus said with a sly smirk curling at the edge of his lips. "While I think… why don't you keep pushing the boulder for me?"
Sisyphus let Craby and me continue pushing the cursed stone up the mountain. He never touched it again. Was he really helping us? No way. There was no scenario in which a crab's shapeshifting or my fleet-footed fate could break Sisyphus's curse. I was sure of it: he wasn't planning anything. He was stalling—waiting for us to collapse and fall off the mountain.
Craby and I couldn't let go of the boulder. If we did, we'd lose balance and roll downhill. Worse, we could be crushed beneath it. Even stopping was not an option. If we failed now, the remaining half of our lives might vanish altogether. We'd become full-fledged residents of the Underworld.
The higher we pushed, the steeper the slope grew. The air thinned. We were gasping, muscles trembling, veins bulging from the effort.
"I-I can't go on… Lord Sisyphus, have you thought of a plan yet?" Craby called out desperately.
"Relax," Sisyphus replied casually, clearly unbothered. "Plans like this don't just pop into your head. These things take time."
"Y-you're not thinking of anything at all, are you… Sisyphus?" I snapped, my patience running out.
Sisyphus met my eyes and smirked. "Think what you want. If you don't believe me, fine. Let go of the rock and walk back down the mountain."
He was still toying with us. He really meant to let us die. This was all just a trick—he'd fooled us into pushing the boulder for him. I had to do something to stop this devious king.
Then an idea came to me. I wasn't sure if it would work. Honestly, it was a gamble. But it was the only shot we had to get Sisyphus to stop messing with us.
"Sisyphus," I called out to the King of Corinth.
"What is it?" he said flatly, uninterested.
"I know a way to break your curse. A real way."
"Oh, do you now? Let's hear it," he said with mocking curiosity.
"Lachesis's golden needle. It can undo your curse."
"And? Even if that's true, how do you plan to get it from the hands of the three Fates? Got a brain in there? Think! If you go barging in to snatch it, Atropos will sever your soul in half. You're speaking nonsense," he scoffed.
"You're right… if the needle were still in their hands."
Sisyphus's expression shifted. He was interested now. "What do you mean? Are you saying… the golden needle isn't with them anymore?"
"Yes," I replied simply.