Prometheus never was the same, after his meeting with Anne.
Oh, sure. A lot of his life’s exterior details were the same. Prometheus was still running businesses, trading stocks, tinkering with his mech suit and beating up bad guys. Sharise was still around, The Superbuds were still active.
If you’d asked anyone from the public, anyone who followed his exploits in the news or just by word-of-mouth, they would say he was still the same old hero, fighting the great fight and keeping people safe.
But those closer to him — his friends, his loved ones — knew something had changed. They saw it in his eyes, and the slightly slower pace of his movements.
Thing is, he’d been ignoring one of hero-dom’s essential truths. He’d saved everyone he could, not thinking about those who’d slipped through his fingers. He figured he saved basically everybody, and the ones he hadn’t saved were the bad guys — the villains.
After seeing what’d happened with Katie? After sensing Anne’s descent into villainy — sensing it, but having no proof? Not having the will to investigate it?
Prometheus knew that he couldn’t save everyone. There were people who could’ve been saved if he’d been kinder, stronger, smarter, less tied to a system that pushed some people to be good and others to be evil.
The problem wasn’t that some people couldn’t be saved — that he’d always known. The problem was that some people could have been saved. Just not by him.
For the first time in his life, Prometheus became aware of his own flaws.
He never was the same, after that.