His humans were happy, yes; but to Prometheus such a safe, unchallenged, and unchallenging existence had no zest to it. To approach the godlike status that his creation deserved, mankind needed something more. They needed fire. Real hot, fierce, flickering, flaming fire to enable them to melt, smelt, roast, toast, boil, broil, fashion, and forge; and they needed an inner creative fire too, a divine fire, to enable them to think, imagine, dare, and do. The more he watched over and mingled with his creation, the more Prometheus became convinced that fire was exactly what they needed. And he knew
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