"Right," Gabriel said decisively, and set about cleaning the wound as best he could. It didn't make perfect sense - or, well, any kind of sense at all, really - but if one god could live without a liver...

"And he was all right afterward, this Prometheus?" he continued, snatching some antibiotic ointment from a nearby cabinet as he pursued the issue. "It didn't kill him? He just - what, grew another liver?"