ItB Book 2: The Reign of Cronos

Book II: The Reign of Cronos

Disclaimer:

This story is a sequel to In the Beginning but like most of these stories, it is primarily self-contained, but it is very much a product of the author's imagination. These novellas are meant to be long enough to tell a story but short enough to be digestible for readers, so anyone can jump in at any time, and leave. While 'self-contained', the stories are made better by paying attention to the entire over-arching narrative.

It is best read to read the entirety of the series if readers want to understand the minutiae of the tale.

This story contains adult content, including depictions of sexual encounters, incestuous relationships (specifically mother/son and father/daughter, but also between siblings in this particular tale), themes of reluctance/non-con (specifically in chapter 1), breeding (the gods have to get here somehow), manipulation, and graphic sex.

As it is a mythological story, there will also be elements of magic and fight scenes.

The entirety of this series includes mythological elements with inspiration from sources like God of War, Percy Jackson, Lore Olympus, Supergiant Games Hades, Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, GoodTimes: Hercules, Mythos, Hesiod's Theogony and The Library by Apollodorus, and other classical texts, but it's shaped by the author's imagination and narrative alterations.

Since it needs to be hammered in, this story, as well as the rest in the series, is primarily the author's creation, supported by proofreaders and an editor, and is intended for entertainment rather than as a replacement for mythological sources. However, as this author knows a lot of people do not enjoy listening or reading the ancient sources as they can be a smidge boring Though the series explores fanfiction-inspired themes, it's not initially intended as fanfiction to any particular work.

Quotations are cited to the best of the author's ability and meant to pay homage to those that inspired the work as well as set a tone. Feel encouraged to use the music quotes to listen to while reading certain chapters.

Story deviations from the more commonly accepted lore for narrative cohesion may be explained by the author if there is interest in the audience.

Tales of Olympus updates regularly, though delays may occur. Please rate accordingly. Thank you for your interest and consideration.

The Cast:

The Progenitor:

Chaos: The Progenitor Deity of formless, infinite, and undifferentiated chaos. Chaos is the source of all creation and existence.

The Primordials:

Gaia: The Primordial Deity of the Earth. She is a child of Chaos and represents the physical, living world.

Eros: Eros is the Primordial of love and desire, born from Chaos. Eros has been missing since the early days of creation.

Tartarus: The Primordial of the deepest abyss. He is a child of Chaos. Tartarus has become one with his Realm

Erebus: The Primordial of darkness and shadow. He is a child of Chaos and represents the primeval darkness before creation.

Nyx: The Primordial of Night. She is a shadowy and enigmatic deity, mother to various beings, including Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death). She is a daughter of Chaos.

Ouranos (Uranus): The Last Primordial, representing the sky or heavens. He is the child (and spouse) of Gaia. Deposed King of Olympus. He was the First Death in the land of Greece.

The Titans: The "Rightful Children" of Ouranos and Gaia.

Oceanus: Titan of the Ocean and all bodies of water.

Coeus: Titan of intelligence and the inquisitive mind.

Crius: Titan of constellations and heavenly bodies.

Hyperion: Titan of the sun, light, and heavenly wisdom.

Iapetus: Titan of mortal life, mortality, and human nature.

Cronos (Kronos/Cronus): Titan of time, harvest, and the ages. Current King of Mount Olympus.

Thea: Titaness of shining light and divine splendor.

Rhea: Titaness of fertility, motherhood, and generation. Mother of Demeter, Hera, Hestia, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades.

Themis: Titaness of divine law, order, and custom.

Mnemosyne: Titaness of memory, remembrance, and the arts.

Phoebe: Titaness of prophecy, intellect, and the moon.

Tethys: Titaness of the sea, freshwater, and mother of rivers.

Other Characters:

Aether: Son of Rhea.

Atlas: Son of Clymene and Iapetus. Lesser titan of Might and Strength.

Brontes, Steropes, Arges (Cyclopes): The Cyclopes are one-eyed giants known for their craftsmanship. They are the children of Gaia and Ouranos, and represent various aspects of natural forces.

Cottus, Briareos, Gyges (Hecatoncheires): The Hecatoncheires are 3 monstrous giants with a hundred arms and fifty heads. They are the first children of Gaia and Ouranos, and represent chaotic and destructive forces.

Clymene: Daughter of Oceanus and Tethys. Wife of Iapetus. Mother of Prometheus, Epimetheus, Atlas, and Menoetius. One of the Oceanids.

Demeter: Middle daughter of Cronos and Rhea. Adept at magic related to the weather.

Epimetheus: Son of Clymene and Iapetus. Twin to Prometheus. Lesser titan of Hindsight.

Hades: Eldest son of Cronos and Rhea.

Hera: Youngest daughter of Cronos and Rhea.

Hestia: Eldest daughter of Cronos and Rhea.

Menoetius: Son of Clymene and Iapetus. Lesser titan of Destruction and Rage.

Poseidon: Middle son of Cronos and Rhea.

Prometheus: Son of Clymene and Iapetus. Twin to Epimetheus. Lesser titan of Foresight.

The Sisters of Fate: Also known as the Moirai or Fates; these three powerful deities are in charge of the Tapestry of Fate. The Tapestry controls the destinies of gods and mortals alike. They are Clothos (the Spinner), Lachesis (the Measurer), and Atropos (the Cutter). They weave the threads of life, measure its span, and cut the threads to determine when it will end.

Zeus: Youngest son of Cronos and Rhea.

---

Prologue: Crowned

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."

— William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part 2, Act 3, Scene 1 (1597-1598).

In the Realm of the Great Progenitor known as Chaos, all was silent. This place was Chaos' refuge as well as the origin of the Primordials. Their creation had begun the cycle for the possibility of the abundance that was life in the plane of Greece.

In this place, the inky pitch black of prehistoric darkness stretched infinitely in the void punctuated by starlit clusters scattered across the depths. Each point was a distant pulse of the Omniverse itself for only Chaos to appreciate.

It was at this site, in this existence named after its creator, where the Great Progenitor Chaos watched events unfolding in the Realm of Greece. To accomplish this feat, their consciousness drifted through the endless cosmic currents toward a scene of treachery, turmoil, violence, victory, and defeat within a window carved into their world's existence.

The land of Greece was still in its infancy. By stark contrast to where the Progenitor resided, the imperfect domain of the Primordials and the Titans seethed with life and conflict.

This was the start of the reigns. There was the fury of a father attacking, a son betrayed, children banding together, and one generation overcoming another. This all occurred at the same moment for the Progenitor to witness.

In a thousand ways and a thousand times, this might have always happened as the skies gave way to Time and his cohorts. What Chaos knew of the young usurping the old was only coming into play for those that were everlasting and untouchable by time. These Titans had such potential for sagacity and brawn to cultivate a land to rule forevermore.

Whether or not they did was entirely up to them.

Chaos' gaze fell directly upon Ouranos in the scene, ignoring all others.

Ouranos had been the Last Primordial as well as the bearer of a crown bequeathed to him by Chaos. The metal circlet had been forged from the fundamental, foundational essence of existence within the Realm of Chaos. Further still, the headwear served as a symbol of authority over all in the lands of Greece.

What went entirely unappreciated by the Last Primordial, the circlet was also the king's link to the very fabric of creation. Its golden lattice glistened faintly even amidst the ichor and dust, proving that this artifact was far more than the Last Primordial gave it credit for.

Chaos' attention on the unfolding events sharpened with each blow Ouranos suffered from his offspring. The shockwaves rippled through the natural order as his divine ichor spilled. Had this child of Chaos and Gaia not been so arrogantly foolhardy, he might yet have avoided this conclusion, but how could he when he had been given nearly everything. For one such as him, when given dominion over almost the entirety of all he knew, he would want what he could not have with a single mindedness that would ultimately lead to his downfall.

This could only create the sensation known as sorrow for the Progenitor, or as close as one as old and powerful as they could feel.

The world was not old enough for a king to have the wisdom to be satisfactorily appreciative of all he had. And so for one observing these events, like the creator Chaos, Ouranos' defeat was a foregone conclusion with no alternative whatsoever.

Lightning flashed and thunder rang from the finite domain of Greece to the edge of Chaos' consciousness to signify the wail of Father Sky's imminent demise. The details of the battle between parent and children blurred, losing all semblance of focus, as Chaos honed in on the Primordial King.

The struggle swelled toward its fateful conclusion. Chaos felt a wrenching shift that would irrevocably tear all of existence when the scythe in Cronos' hand struck down the once-king. The moment Ouranos' flesh was torn apart, separating his head from his body at the neck, his right to be king was lost to the Progenitor as well as the rest of living existence.

Although the Progenitor had crowned the king, and had known this being all of his life, Chaos watched the fall of Ouranos impassively. The Titan's father collapsed limply into the sea. His head rolled away even as the waves of Oceanus' sea buffeted away momentarily before swallowing the gigantic being whole.

The crown he wore slipped beneath the waves but not before letting off a glistening flash for the observing eyes of the creator.

Chaos perceptively distinguished the headband that had signified Ouranos' right to rule.

Moments later, the crown reappeared, materializing atop a faint, spectral image of Ouranos' fallen form that was being escorted into the Underworld by the young son of Nyx called Thanatos. Its brilliance remained yet somehow was more ethereal in the king's death.

Chaos continued to watch as the specter drifted into the depths of the Underworld. For the smallest measurement of time, Chaos considered a king who had ruled but never fully grasped the power bound within his reach. What Ouranos might have accomplished had he simply been happy with all he had been given astonished the Progenitor. He might have raised a pantheon so wondrous that for millions of eons, people would have known and praised his name.

For his failings, his name would be rarely recalled by anyone. He would be a piece to someone's story needed to tell someone else's story, and the fault was entirely his own. Chaos would sigh if they could only muster enough effort to care more for such a disenchanting dismay.

To the Progenitor, the Primordials were their children, and Ouranos had been made special since he was the Last Primordial, yet Chaos knew that in all of existence, for all the time and space that existence might yet span, Ouranos was but one tiny twig on a greater branch.

That reminded the creator of the greater design of all reality.

When Chaos looked towards that shaping formation, they saw the golden strand that they had come to recognize from the first prophecy. This single strand might yet bind up all of existence. If one king must fall for so many lives to be saved eventually, was it not worth it? Was it not worth all of that and more when the downfall had been brought about by that foolish king's hands.

There were so many questions to consider when it came to the infinite of all things, yet still, amidst the starlit void, Chaos remained, unmoved and inscrutable. They would ponder the outcome of this clash and what it might mean for the realms beyond Greece, and for generations to come.

Rather than focus on the pessimistic view of inevitability, Chaos would look at the new, the reborn, the rise of another.

In the window in their world, Chaos looked upon another event in the realm below. Time was a fickle facet of their realm. Sometimes it flowed slower or faster in their realm. Chaos could not especially figure out why, but then again, they scarcely seemed to care.

Chaos was an interesting entity. They did not know existence as most did. Time and space, past and present, even the impossibly heavy weight of the unfathomable eternity were part of their day to day, and moreover, this girth was not too much for Chaos to find their focus.

Looking upon the sight of Mount Olympus, their gaze fell upon the youngest son of Ouranos and Gaia.

Cronos stood in front of an assembly of his Titan brothers and sisters. The entire immediate family was present while he stood at the forefront. His back was to his siblings.

While shirtless, the slayer of Ouranos was clad in his regal attire befitting a King of Olympus. His belt was made of gold, his forearms were adorned with a bronze pair of bracers, and his legs were covered in a baggy, bloody burgundy skirt. Ouranos never needed such regalia, yet for Cronos it only accentuated his Titanic allure.

While he had a bald head, he looked all the more appealing to the eye with his strong jaw and stubbled chin. He had a strong body, framed with large muscles even among his family. Outside of Crius, he might have been perceived as physical power itself. He was the only one with the right to command the Throne of Olympus since The Last Primordial's death.

He knelt down before his towering Earth Mother and respectfully lowered his head. Gaia was a tall female made of earth, stone, vines, and water. She was as feminine as her daughters, but her appearance was a display of her connection to the Progenitor.

Before her Titan children, she presented a golden wreath for her son's head. With the crown that her husband wore missing, the Primordial Queen decided it was best to make one herself to declare her son to be the next King of Olympus.

His brothers might have fought this idea, but with how Crius had been crippled from the battle with Ouranos, Coeus was usually so unemotional, Hyperion stepped aside after Cronos slew Ouranos, Iapetus seemed so disinterested in everything, and Oceanus was in love with the sea, there was no other choice to ascend.

Upon placing the wreath on his head, Rhea came to stand beside her brother. She said nothing at first. Gaia acknowledged her daughter with a nod of her head. Before the other children of Gaia and Ouranos, the two were wed, and from that day forth, they were to be known as the Titan King and Queen of Olympus.

Chaos' consciousness pulsed from the imagery, causing their faint curiosity to pull away from the path of the Titans.

Cronos' coronation and wedding was something distant despite the momentary interest in their grandchildren. However, Chaos perceived existence differently than the emotionally driven Titans. For Chaos, that there was life and choice was what mattered. How the other divinity used this choice was both relevant and irrelevant to them. Morality and ethics were still being decided by their progeny, and it was right for them to do so.

Still, Chaos could not pretend that while they were distant from the divinities in the Realm of Greece, the Progenitor did have their own agenda. Pretending otherwise would be dishonest of the creator of the lands of Greece.

From their outsider perspective though, Chaos could see the essence of Olympus. There was and would be a ceaseless chain of rulers. Unlike Chaos (or perhaps Chaos would also fall into this trap) each generation below would be grasping for supremacy.

This caused pause for the Progenitor. They had once seen something that had caught their fleeting interest. Interest was rare for them, so with interest came a curiosity. Had the Titans and Primordials found a way to deviate from the path that the Progenitor had laid out for them?

Through the cosmos, Chaos peered upon the stream of time as though it were nothing more than a flowing river. Each fall of a king formed a ripple that still held the possibility of leading to a distant, uniting future.

With this vision, Chaos breathed easier.

Surely, this was the path woven for their offspring, but if Chaos had offered them the power to choose, there would be a second by second chance at change. Multiple choices here, multiple choices there. What might have been one deviation here, one deviation there was quickly becoming a wholly unique possibility.

Even if each generation a king was dethroned, this did not guarantee that the other smaller, lesser pieces would comply with the choices that Chaos wanted. True. All of their decisions contributed to a steady movement toward something vast yet cohesive. The river of time could twist and turn in a million ways. Nevertheless, Chaos believed it would meander into their optimistic design. Perhaps, this would not occur easily, but time in the Realm of Greece always marched forward. It was oppressive and trudged toward a final convergence, one way or another.

For all of those reasons, even Chaos could not define this future.

A flicker of unease crept into the essence of the Progenitor. Sharp as a shard of broken starlight, it stabbed into their deepest core. With so many potential deviations, they began to feel the cold uncertainty of fear.

What if these unfolding events did not progress towards the unification of the many? Could this start a vicious, violent cycle that endlessly repeated itself? Were their Primordial children, even the Titans, truly capable of grasping the depth of what Chaos hoped for? Part of Chaos wanted to believe it was planned, but plans for the future would be unfair to make again their offspring.

Chaos had a gaze that stretched across endless galaxies, through quasars, beyond a singular idea of existence and time. They could see what their progeny was not even remotely sure of just yet. Because of this, that fear they felt was all the more frustratingly scary.

The timeline twisted on itself in ways even they could not entirely untangle. This uncertainty struck Chaos in their heart once more, and for one long, ponderous moment, Chaos contemplated the worst possibility of all: Could even they be wrong?

Chapter 1: The Birth of Aether

"Birth is the sudden opening of a window, through which you look out upon a stupendous prospect. For what has happened? A miracle. You have exchanged nothing for the possibility of everything."

— William Macneile Dixon, The Human Situation: The Gifford Lectures Delivered in the University of Glasgow, 1935-1937, Edward Arnold & Co., 1938.

In the land of Greece, there stood an edifice of rock and stone that kissed the heavens with the intimacy of a love reminiscent of its Primordial creators. This seemingly natural structure was made from the coupling of two offspring of the ineffable, unknowable Progenitor called Chaos. From its rock, to its slopes, to the snow-like cloudy heights, the monument was a testament to the majestic magnificence of the divine. Olympus stood as a unique place, both in the Land of Greece and the plane of the Titans.

Around the erected monument, clouds swirled in a blackish torrent. The clash of rain and light was in full swing. As the storm raged outside of the beautiful city, casting dark shadows across all of Olympus, in her bedchamber within the Grand Palace, Rhea screamed.

Thunder roared and lightning flashed to ominously illuminate the room with sporadic bursts of light. The Titaness Queen was in the throes of labor. Her face was etched with determination; she clutched the edges of the bed as a hint of pain wormed its way. For all the joys of conception, she was discovering the eternal truth that birth would be an agonizing experience for most mothers.

Gaia served as the midwife in helping Rhea bring forth the first of the next generation of Titans. The Primordial essence of Earth looked from her daughter to her son, Cronos.

As Rhea's husband and the babe's father, Gaia felt that he had every right to be present for the birth. That might have been maternal affection for him blinding her reason, however.

The Titan King stood apart from the event in question but never so far that he could not be aware of all that was occurring. His eyes never left Rhea even as his other features (from his muscles in his arms flexing to his teeth in his mouth clenching) seemed tense with uneasy apprehension. He stared intently, alternating between the child being brought into the world and the pain on his wife's face. Finally, amidst the storm's mayhem, a cry of frail power pierced the air.

The boy's wails were the first cries of the next generation of the Titans. The room fell into a reverent silence as all eyes turned towards the source of the wailing newborn. Nothing escaped his piercing attention.

From the elder divinities, there was so much was unsaid as the baby was lifted up by Mother Earth.

Gaia carefully gathered up the firstborn child in a cloth, so the baby could be warm, and handed him to Rhea, who reached out to joyfully receive him.

No matter how the child had come to be, the boy was Gaia's grandchild through and through. That made it the simplest task in all of existence for her to love him with all of her heart. Eros himself could not have filled Gaia up with as much storgḗ (familial love) as she felt for that baby grandson of hers.

Rhea's goggling gaze only beheld her son. If love was the metric by which any mother was graded, Rhea would have been seen as the greatest in her class.

Despite how happy she was for the new pair of mother and child, Gaia exchanged a worried look with Cronos. The Titan King looked at the child with the greatest scrutiny he could muster before his concentration broke. Realizing his mother was watching him with the same analytical eyes had him thinking: Did she see what he saw?

That momentarily exchange was lost to Rhea. She could only see her princely son. From conception to carrying him to the laborious birth, it had all been worth it to the Titan Queen.

"Aether," Rhea muttered. "His name is Aether."

For Rhea, in that small, fleeting moment, all that mattered, in all of Olympus, was her child. The thrones, siblings, parents, powers, and thoughts of the past or future, were entirely irrelevant to her when compared to the bundle of joy in her arms.

The Titan siblings gathered into the room to celebrate their new Prince. They had not been in the birthing room, so as to give Rhea privacy in her most intimate moments of birth. This singular courtesy was much more than Gaia had been given when she first christened her marriage or birthed her first children.

While the other Titans excitedly looked at Aether, Cronos flashed Rhea a glance of disapproval. She could sense her husband's agitation even if she barely acknowledged her husband's look.

To her, the baby was far more important than any king or divinity; Chaos themselves could not mean half as much as the little Titan named Aether could mean to her. Despite all the pain and exhaustion of childbirth, Rhea found a coruscating jubilation in holding her son.

Aether was not just some prince or piece in the grand scale of Mount Olympus and its divinities. He was her baby boy that she saw as a wonderful life who brought so much more to existence than Rhea ever thought possible.

Cronos stopped looking at his wife. No matter his position amongst everyone present, he would be unable to disguise his suspicious disgust at Rhea. He returned his look to his mother. If any could understand the pain of betrayal he was suffering, it would be her.

There was a sad recognition of her son's ire on Gaia's face. Though he was the King of the Titans, she still saw the honest loving boy in his features. She would have to be his balm, and dutiful servant in the days to come, if she was to save him from falling into the pits of despicable atrocity that his father had.

**********

While the celebration of Aether's birth continued in the birthing room, a different set of mother and son stepped away. Gaia and Cronos went to another room in the enormous palace that had once belonged to Ouranos. It was best to be away from the others, so as not to be heard.

Gaia stood tensely once she was settled into the new space. Her son's adverse reaction to the babe was seared into her mind. This same response provided the Earth Primordial with a good idea of what would be said to her.

Cronos did not disappoint her or her mother's intuition.

"That is not... my... son!" The King of the Titans roared.

"You can't be positive of that," Gaia countered hastily.

She raised both her hands in a hope to placate him. While she did not fear her son, she knew that If he gave in to his rage, there would be very little that she could do to help him.

"You and Rhea made love many times around the same time of conception," Gaia reasoned soundly. "There is a strong probability that Aether is your son, Cronos."

"His power, his bearing... " Cronos struggled to say in his rage.

Though he had only ever lost his temper with his father, the reminder of his father laying with the woman who was currently his wife was affecting him far more than he could voice. He motioned to the other room with his enormous hand.

"That's the son of Ouranos!" Cronos exclaimed in a hushed voice. He did not want the others to know that the child they were celebrating was their brother, not their nephew. "He's my father's son, not mine! I won't raise him, Gaia!"

The boiling, barely restrained fury was quickly approaching crazed in Gaia's analysis. She could tell that reason would not reach her wrathful son. With the knowledge that he had killed one parent in anger, Gaia's countenance changed.

"What will you do?" she asked, careful to not sound challenging. "Would you turn the child out of Olympus after seeing how happy he makes your wife? Or would you feel comfortable taking his life like you took your father's?" Gaia added coldly.

Her question was a stark reminder of his recent accomplishment. This could be seen as a positive and negative experience to him; after all, Ouranos was corrupt in his ruling, so this was good, but until he had met his demise, no one had known what death was. For all, life was meant to be an adventure that went on and on everlastingly. By taking Father Sky's life, the Time Titan achieved his vengeance, but also realized how fragile anyone's life could be, including his own.

Because of this newfound knowledge that any divinity could find an end to their life for any reason, there was a new sensation in all of their minds that only the Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires had felt: Fear.

Cronos froze in dread at the accusation. He had done what needed doing when it came to ending his father's life. However, after the bloodrush of battle had left him, an empathy mixed with his conscience to make a potent blend to tame his less desired trait of surrendering to his outrage.

After a moment's pause to collect himself, he looked at the Primordial Mother of the Titans with reverence.

"What would you have me do?" Cronos wondered after exhaling. All of his self-control was called upon to ask the question with an even cadence.

As quickly as the words had been freed, the two of them understood the implication of the question. He would be rid of the child; that much was fundamentally true. What was still in debate was: What would it take for Gaia to accept his justified anger?

"Prove the child's paternal half," Mother Earth said with the clarity of crystal.

"How?" Cronos asked suspiciously.

Gaia looked from Cronos to the world below, indicating her intention.

Cronos looked upon her as if she had lost the entirety of her mind. "But Father was undone by them," he breathed in disbelief.

That new sensation of dread was infecting him as he spoke. While Cronos may have swung the scythe to remove his father's head from his body, there were others who had said words of prophecy to make it so.

"The way I understand it, your father was outdone by believing he could control them," Gaia explained.

The exploration into Ouranos' many visits to see the daughters of Nyx had bore some fruit for Gaia in the time between Ouranos' and Cronos' rule. While she had hoped to put his worry at ease, she could see the uncertainty on her son's face.

"If I come to them respectfully," Gaia mused carefully, "they might be willing to help me."

Her words were entirely speculative. The Sisters of Fate were private divinities even when compared to Gaia's Titan children, who very much enjoyed keeping to themselves.

Cronos sat in a free chair and waved his mother away.

"Very well," he said, conceding to her suggestion.

In that moment between them, the simple truth that Cronos acknowledged how important Gaia was, both to himself and to his rule, was palpable. She could be many things as a former queen: advisor, counselor, mother, and even his friend.

Since he feared the children of Nyx, he recognized that it could be better to send her in his stead to set her own unease to rest. In this way, she was indisposable. She wanted the truth about Aether as much as he did even if her motivations were different. In the centermost part of his heart, Cronos knew that Aether was the product of his father's lecherous rape of Cronos' wife before she had wed him, and he would not have the spawn of his dead, degenerate father anywhere near himself.

"Go. Go to them," Cronos said, waving her off once more. "If it can yield the truth, one way or the other, it will be worth it."

**********

Gaia found the Realm of brother, Tartarus, to be far less isolating than the world above. Despite helping her children more recently, she had felt a certain loneliness after her husband's betrayal of Cronos and Rhea and then his subsequent death. When she was in the Underworld, however, Gaia did not have to even be aware of her surroundings; she felt a certain presence embracing her with acceptance. She could not distinguish what this sensation was, but there was some intangible difference to her previous visit to the realm.

Unfortunately for the Earth Primordial, she could feel a tangible loss in her power from simply being present in the domain, just as she had when she previously had come to the Underworld. That was inconsequential when she could feel herself being wrapped up in the love of her brother.

Her thoughts of Tartarus were broken up by a slow, consistent shaking within the Underworld. She could feel and hear the gigantic steps of another Primordial. When she looked in the direction of the sound, she found that her husband, Ouranos, had come into sight.

To see him so soon after his demise left Gaia conflicted. She instinctively reached out for him from a life of loving him before stopping herself when she recalled the image of Ouranos in the throes of passion with Rhea.

That thought was interrupted when she looked upon him with more critical eyes. This inspection yielded the knowledge that he had become far too pale to be her husband. His physical visage was emptier than it had been in life, lesser somehow.

She could not understand what was the source of this diminishment.

It would be best to leave him alone, she believed.

After all, what was there to say to him? He had betrayed her to lay with their daughter. He had broken the trust of a marriage gifted to them by the Progenitor with this deception. Such a selfishly horrendous act should have left Gaia feeling nothing but hatred for Ouranos, and yet, he was still her husband even in death.

A not insubstantial part of her longed to touch her husband, to kiss him, and return to the way things were before his selfishness, but that was not the way of the world. She knew she could only go forward, not backwards.

Her hand fell back to her side when she recalled her mission for Cronos.

Shaking her head, she turned to the ominous landscape of the Underworld, looking it over until she saw the Palace of the Fates. It was the only true building in the land of the dead. It was not elaborate or stylish, but rather a building of simplicity. What use were baubles and ornaments for ones such as the Sisters of Fate? They had the gift to see the past, present, and future. Decoration was just superfluous to them.

Gaia walked into the edifice and looked upon the beautifully lit home. There were stands with fire to light up the room. The tapestry of the Fates was laid out on the wall. Its fine stitching showed events that had only recently occurred, by the recollection of the Primordial Mother.

"This is... amazing," Gaia breathed as she marveled at the tapestry. She saw the battle between Cronos and Ouranos, followed by Gaia crowning Cronos as King, even as Chaos had once crowned Ouranos.

"We thank you for the compliment," the three Sisters said at once.

Their voices were haunting when used in unison. Gaia hesitated in her feeling of unease.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Clothos asked when the silence had blanketed the whole temple.

The question confused Gaia, given what she knew of the Sisters. Surely, they knew everything. Then again, the limited interaction of the Fates in the land of the living made it entirely plausible that Gaia's information could be mistaken in a place or two when it came to them.

"Do you not know?" Gaia asked.

While she was incredulous, she never allowed her tone to be anything less than respectful. She was not sure as to the extent of the Fates' powers, but she did know that Chaos seemed to have understood destiny at the birth of creation, and with that knowledge in hand, Gaia regarded the three with a deference akin to that of the Progenitor.

"We do," Lachesis replied, motioning for Gaia to sit. "But it is always nice to ask."

This one sister's tone was nothing but respectful to the Earth Mother. She genuinely seemed to care for Gaia's request as well as making sure the Primordial was at ease.

Gaia accepted the comfortable chair that Lachesis summoned for her to sit on. The Fates were all so small in comparison to the Primordial, hovering between five and six feet, but as surely as she knew Ouranos had lived and been slain, Gaia understood that stature meant nothing when it came to the power of the divine.

The Mother of the Titans stared at the three of them. On Olympus, before her son, Gaia had known exactly what to say and how she might say it. Facing an audience with those three women gave Gaia pause.

Regardless of how the course of events had actually gone, the daughters of Nyx had played a vital role in the removal of Ouranos from power. That was worth giving pause, especially if one had the gift of divine wisdom to guide their course. Gaia, who also played no small part in the recent downfall of the king, recognized that the Sisters of Fate would be a crucial fragment of Greece forever.

They wielded a power different, but just as powerful (if not more so), than her own. With that keenly in mind, she had no intention of being removed from the lands by disrespecting them as her late husband had.

"Who is the father of little Aether?" Gaia asked cordially.

"You wonder who the father of Aether is?" Clothos asked. Her voice tinged with a hint of maddening joy. "We hold the totality of everything in our sights and on our threads, and you, Primordial Queen, would wish to know the answer to such a trivial matter?"

Gaia had felt like a small child when in the presence of Chaos. The Progenitor was not a giant, as Gaia could be, but Chaos had been so instrumental in the Primordials' lives that each of them understood clearly the power that Chaos wielded.

Clothos' statement reignited those old feelings of inferiority within Gaia's core.

"The Prince's father is Ouranos," Lachesis remarked simply, when Gaia said nothing. "He who was cursed for trying to command the power of Fate."

That broke the Primordial out of her fears of smallness. The word cursed had not been used in such a manner. This was cause to think. Gaia was careful with how she proceeded. She was entirely unaware of any curse, but if she was to be of any help to Cronos, she would have to determine this meaning of the Fates' ominous portents.

"May I ask about this curse?" Gaia asked.

"For now, it is not for us to say," said Atropos with kindness in her refusal. "The destinies of others are for them to discover. If one were to share their destiny or our prophecies with you, we might be willing to tell you more," she added, giving hope to Gaia. "As it stands, Great Queen, you have been told what you were sent here to learn. Go. Tell your King of Olympus what you have heard, but you should be warned that his actions will demonstrate whether or not he is meant to reign on Olympus."

Gaia wanted to challenge their words, but the Sisters waved Gaia away in near unison. The chair Lachesis had summoned for her vanished after that.

Gaia was prompted to stand when the chair disappeared; their dismissal was the last word. She would have difficulty explaining everything to Cronos; however, regardless of these turn of events, or perhaps because of them, she was undecided about telling him what the Fates had said.

**********

Moonlight poured through the chamber until it cast a gentle glow upon the sleeping figure of little Aether in his crib. The Olympian Prince was a vision of infantile divinity.

Rhea stood in quiet contemplation over her pride and joy. Her eyes traced the contours of her son's face, finding solace in the resemblance to their shared father, Ouranos. Though he had been taken from the land of the living, he had still given her a gift beyond compare in his death.

It was a sorrowful reality that she could not admit such a similarity outwardly because of Cronos. After all, that would reveal the depth of her descent into depravity.

Her most deeply concealed and secluded secret in her heart was that she had truly loved her father in the most intimate way one person could love another. His touch had been unlike any passion that Cronos had ever brought to bear with her.

Ouranos had taken Rhea, and consumed her in his lovemaking when he had her. The effect was twofold since, in his absence, she could feel the emptiness where his touch should be on her. She was an extension of his will, existing only to please him, and even in this selfishness, there was no greed on behalf of the Primordial King. After all, for all he had taken from her, he returned her aching hunger back to her twice over. This fed all her burning lust until all she could do was surrender to him, and that alone made her body shiver in remembrance.

Cronos, by comparison to their father, was simply a pale imitation. He wanted her, desired her even, but when it came to bringing that carnal heat to bed with Rhea, he was not up to the task.

With that juxtaposition in mind, Rhea's thoughts wandered to Cronos. He was her husband and Ruler of the Titans, and murderer of her beloved Ouranos.

On one hand, if their union was anything like that of Ouranos and Gaia's marriage, they would appear to be the perfect couple and would rule over all of the other deities. However, if Rhea understood anything from the discontent of her father, it was that, despite how perfect Ouranos and Gaia seemed, there were imperfections to their relationship.

This led to her thoughts on her own husband, and how when she contemplated Cronos' actions, Rhea could not help but loathe her husband. He had no right to take her king away from her. Ouranos had been the ruler of the heavens and everything below as ordained by Chaos.

Chaos was the creator, the maker of all things. If Chaos had chosen Ouranos, who was a Titan who could slow time for such a short while to remove that king from life?

Unfortunately for her, that was when she realized that she could say nothing. If she complained about his killing of their father, Cronos and the other Titan siblings might see Rhea as some sort of deviant for hurting Cronos with her infidelity.

Was it infidelity though?

She and Cronos were not married at the time. Cronos desired her and chased her with loving eyes, and while she had humored his interest, and even planned to one day marry him, they had not been bound in any formal romantic relationship.

Ouranos had been king at the time; he was Father Sky, the Last Primordial, Ruler of the Heavens, Lover to the Earth itself.

She winced at the reminder that her great love had also fornicated with Gaia, but that could not be helped. Rhea's jealousy over Ouranos' love for her and Gaia had to be set aside. It was simple pragmatism. Without Ouranos procreating with Gaia, Rhea would never have been born, and she would have never been able to know all the passionate tenderness that Ouranos had given her.

With the memory of that very tenderness on her mind, Rhea turned attention back to baby Aether.

In his slumber, her son seemed to embody every positive quality that Cronos lacked. Where Cronos was absorbed by his father's legacy, fear and envy clouding his judgment, Aether exuded untainted potential to be powerful and to rule.

Rhea saw in him the promise of a new era. Everything around her could be a Realm free from the shadows of Cronos' reign and his mistake of removing Ouranos from the living.

A soft smile graced Rhea's lips before she whispered to the slumbering Aether.

"My dear child, you shall be Ouranos reborn," she vowed.

She gently brushed a wispy lock of hair from his forehead. Her touch was filled with a vulnerably sentimental, maternal love for him. Leaning over, she kissed Aether's cheek.

Her gaze shifted to the heavens outside to witness the nearly empty night sky of Nyx. There was a boundlessness to that canvas. Had Chaos thought of such a feature when they brought creation into existence? Or had Nyx been the one to make that facet of the heavens?

Whatever the candid reality was to those questions, Rhea's heart swelled with longing when she considered the reality of such an immensity. She wished for a future where Aether would ascend to his rightful place. Cronos would fall by the babe's hand someday to usher in a new era of harmonious enlightenment and not this era of covetous jealousy.

Of course, she would be by his side to counsel him in the right direction. She would not want her son to become like the false facsimile of a king that Cronos could only pretend to be. Her mind wandered farther and farther away from her body until her very essence hoped that her dream would be the destiny of the little prince, her baby boy.

**********

In the Grand Chamber of a palace that once belonged to Ouranos, there was a tension-laden silence that hung in the air. Olympus had not known such concern until the moment at hand.

Gaia approached her son with despair etched upon her face. With all that she knew about existence since the death of her husband, she was acutely aware that the knowledge given to her by the Fates could shatter the fragile peace within the Realm.

Nevertheless, she walked towards Cronos dutifully. She had named him king, and it was her duty to serve him as she served her husband even if there was a risk that she could be changing the landscape of Olympus once more with the new she had for him.

Cronos sat upon the throne that had once belonged to Ouranos. The Titan King was engrossed in his thoughts when he recognized his mother had returned. He turned to face Gaia with an expectant yet wary expression. He gave her the due respect of his full attention.

Gaia took a deep breath.

"Cronos..."

Though her voice was steady, the two syllable name had been laced with a dash of sorrow. She struggled to meet his eyes, which she was certain would make him understand that she had come with ill news.

Cronos was not one for niceties since his ascension to the throne. Whereas he had been patient with his harvests and not one to demand them to grow any faster than they might have on their own, he was no longer willing to allow others to react at a pace slower than he wanted.

Perhaps, the stark realization of Ouranos lying with Rhea had left a mark upon his very being, so he no longer accepted shockful secrecy from others. If there were to be more surprises, he would rather face them head on rather than have the unknown.

"Do not hesitate," he ordered. "Just tell me the truth of it, Mother."

"Aether is the son of Ouranos, not you," Gaia said with a careful slowness.

Having seen the jealousy in her son's eyes when it came to Rhea being taken sexually by Ouranos, Gaia was all too aware that this revelation was going to take a toll on him. Perhaps, he would be able to argue that it did not shock him, but as his mother, she knew that it would still do damage.

Cronos' eyes widened in disbelief at his suspicions being confirmed. He had known since the birth of the child, Aether was not his, but still he had hoped that Gaia would prove his suspicions to be unfounded, so that he would not have to be conflicted about what he would want to do next.

With the confirmation however, his temper flickered to life within him. His body tensed from his fists clenching tightly to his temple pulsing. He stood up to walk past his mother and punched one of the stone pillars holding up the ceiling. The support beam shattered instantly.

"Dammit!" Cronos cried out.

Gaia held her ground as best she could. For all that was happening in the divine city, she was his mother first and half of the creator of Mount Olympus second. She knew it was best to say nothing. Though she did not want to watch Cronos shake in his rage, she knew it would be best to allow him to feel his emotions. If she stole that from him, his anger might be turned on her. She understood this all too well when she felt her own heated hatred at her husband's betrayal.

"I will not allow Ouranos' bastard to poison Olympus," he breathed.

Those words alone might not have bothered the Earth Primordial, but in them, she heard a loathing deeper than any she had seen or experienced. The child had done nothing wrong other than exist. The transgression had been made by one who had been slain.

Further still, while Gaia had gone in her son's stead to the Fates, she could not simply be his servant. She was still Mother Earth, Matriarch over the Titans, and the Primordial Queen. To be commanded without question was no longer within her nature.

As such, her gaze bore into Cronos even as her voice was calm yet stern. She was, after all, a multi-faceted, complicated Primordial. Regardless of what crown lay on her son's head, she was not one to be trifled with.

"Cronos!" she cried, aghast at his words. "If nothing else, Aether is your brother. You are the Ruler of the Titans, not him."

She shook her head but maintained a distance from her son. There was an instinct in her that warned if she touched her son, he could become more angry and then violent. She did not fear a battle with her son, but with such permanent consequences for the divinities, Gaia showed restraint because she knew her child would not.

"You cannot allow your hatred of Ouranos to blind you to the love that you possess for your wife and those she clearly loves."

"Blind me?" Cronos asked, wrath overtaking him. Whatever else she had said about love had been lost on him. "He fucked my wife, Gaia! She claims it was against her will, but they still made a child. That was my right as her future husband. Ouranos stole that from me! I will not allow Aether to be a Prince of Olympus!"

Gaia stared at her son, her eyes filled with disappointment and concern. "Cronos, not your father, not Ather, but you! You and your actions will shape the course of Olympus. The Fates may have told me as much, but it is up to you to be fair to your half-brother, even if Rhea was your father's lover."

While she knew there was a danger in scolding her child, Cronos needed a dressing down from the one person alive who had the right to give it to him. Cronos was stunned into silence momentarily. After she said her piece, and she was sure that her son would not talk back, she vanished from the room.

It would take a few moments after his mother's departure for the youngest Titan to regain himself. As his wrath dissipated, Cronos waved his hand to restore the pillar he had destroyed. His divine power alone might have been enough to simply make new material to fix the damage. What he did not know was that his specific power was over the flow of time, and this allowed him to undo the damage as if he had never harmed the pillar at all.

Thoughts on his ability would be for later.

He was alone in the Grand Chamber. All Cronos could do was be still.

What had been stolen from him by his father was unfair, and the greater injustice was the position Ouranos had put him in by making Cronos decide what to do with his half-brother. Existence should have been made simpler when Ouranos died, yet in death, Father Sky would still have the last word over Cronos.

Insecurity battled his ire within his mind into a tumult of emotions, swirling into a cacophony of near-impotent fury. If he were not king, he might have slain the child and thrown himself to the mercy of whomever ruled. However, as King of Olympus, he had to consider everyone. While a king could get away with much, like his father had, clearly there were crimes worthy of being killed over, much like with Ouranos.

So much hung in the balance of his decision. While he did not fully understand what death was other than an end to life, he did not want to be in the land where his father resided.

Ultimately, that is what it all came back to: Ouranos. Whether it was the betrayal, the battle, the rape of Rhea, or even his death, Ouranos permeated every part of Cronos' life.

Ouranos had taken everything from Cronos when he had defiled Rhea. She was created to one day be Cronos' wife, and he was meant to be the only man to ever touch her.

That always, with sad inevitability, led back to the fact that she had been deflowered by the last King. Cronos' simple happiness had been stolen from him, and what was left other than to exist in a life where the shadow of his father haunted him.

**********

Days would come and go without Cronos being able to make a decision. The truth was that he struggled back and forth with what to do.

Gaia would not have cautioned him unless there was a reason for doing so. Perhaps the Fates were warning her that if he overreacted, he would lose the throne Gaia had given him. Maybe he would make all the wrong decisions as it stood. He could not entirely be sure.

After all, it was unclear if the Fates influenced the future, or only reported it. By Chaos, both the Titans and the Primordials knew so little about the Sisters of Fate. What were they? What were their powers? What were their limitations? Who could he ask those questions to without revealing his intention of circumventing them to have a reign free of consequence?

Ultimately, rather than driving himself mad with all of the factors that he could consider, he decided the power of choice was his alone to make.

In that, he knew where he would need to go.

Cronos found Rhea, where she had been since giving birth, in the baby's room.

"Cronos!" Rhea said, slightly startled. She cradled Ouranos' bastard in her arms. It required all of Cronos' willpower to not strike the baby where it was.

"Hello, Rhea," Cronos said harshly. In other circumstances, he might have held his tongue, but all of his restraint went to preventing infanticide.

"What is the matter?" Rhea questioned, barely taking her eyes off baby Aether.

"I know," Cronos said ominously. Though he loved her, he ignored her question altogether. Before she could ask what he was talking about, Cronos went on. "I know... what you did."

Rhea appeared so innocent, lost in her adoration for her baby boy. "I haven't done anything," she said as though she meant it.

"You went to bed with Ouranos willingly," Cronos charged with coldness.

"No," Rhea stammered weakly.

She looked left then right as if seeking a way to flee. While she might not have feared her husband only two weeks ago, the Titan standing before her was no longer that lovestruck male from their youth.

"I told you what happened! He forced me..." Tears formed in her eyes. They were there both for the sake of placating Cronos and for fear of losing the life of the one treasure her love had left behind for her.

Cronos paced before Rhea, blocking her exit. "This last year I've wondered over and over: Why would Rhea risk carrying Ouranos' child if he took her by force? Then, I realized you must have wanted him."

Rhea could barely breathe when she realized he had struck her with the accusation. The paralysis that overwhelmed her was one that could only exist when confronted by the insurmountable power of truth against the deepest of secrets. She had wanted her father. Her husband could never suspect the depth of reality.

"The only reason to carry Aether is because you loved Father!" Cronos snapped. He stood there, hoping to continue in his righteous indignation of Rhea and Ouranos. "But if he forced himself onto you, how could you love him? Unless you wanted him to take you to bed!"

His exclamation was the only accusation that was needed. In that room, he was her husband, prosecutor, and judge, and she had no recourse.

Rhea stepped back from her king and husband. Fear of joining her former lover in the Land of the Dead was starting to infect her heart. Second by second, she feared her husband was fast approaching the decision to deliver retribution onto her.

"Cronos... it's not like that," she cried, tears streaming down her face. "He was King. How was I supposed to deny him?"

The look Cronos gave Rhea was filled with such vitriolic loathing that Rhea set her baby boy into his crib, hoping that she was the target of Cronos' anger. He stepped towards her, and Rhea was unsure as to what would happen next.

"Is that your excuse?" Cronos grabbed her by the dress to tear the fabric from her shoulder.

He looked at her with a maddening red infecting the whites of his eyes. While Rhea did not know what this signified, his changed eyes were the first sign of sanity leaving the mind of her brother and husband. She felt fear from this brutish behavior from him, yet for the first time, she could see a fraction of the ardor that their father had commanded.

"I am King now. Would you deny me?" Cronos asked in such a manner that told Rhea that this was not a hypothetical question.

Rhea recoiled at Cronos' demand. She was not sure what to say or how to feel. All she knew was that for the first time, with Cronos, she could feel her body warming at the thought of him. The command of the moment and his powerful self-control made her rub her thighs together for the smallest moment.

"No... Cronos," she said weakly. Though she protested, for the first time in their marriage, Rhea very nearly surrendered to him. "Don't make it like—"

Cronos' lips crushed his wife's mouth with feral yearning. He could feel a response for her on a primal level that he had not known in most of their coupling. This, more than anything, pushed him onward. Her body's answering to his desire was all he truly wanted in that moment.

Cronos was King of Olympus. He needed to know that he, not their father, was the most important lover to his wife. He would not be haunted by a memory. He had slain Ouranos, and he would remove his touch from his wife.

Pulling away, he looked Rhea in the eyes.

"It was wrong for Ouranos to have you," he declared. "He was not your husband!"

Cronos used his immense strength to throw Rhea to the ground.

It was controlled enough that he did not worry if he hurt her. She looked up to him, using her forearm and elbow to support her. The shock in her eyes was genuine.

He looked down at her. For the briefest moment, their eyes locked. She did not see menace or danger in him any longer. All there was in his eyes was a lustful hunger. Only one person in creation could slake this thirst and feed this appetite.

"I relieved him of his cock after he had his way with you," Cronos said, triumphant. A malicious twinkle reached his eye. "You gave him a son. Maybe it is time you gave me a son."

All too quickly, Rhea understood Cronos' intentions. Part of her wished to stop him, but a greater part wanted to surrender, but the largest part wanted him to take it from her without asking. He was king. He had bested Ouranos. She was his prize, the spoils of his conflict.

"Cronos! No! You don't want to do this."

Cronos held her there and shouted. What he did not know was that neither his immense strength or Rhea's fear kept her in place; rather, her aroused curiosity kept her where she was.

"Don't I? Don't I deserve to have my wife? You gave yourself to him! Give yourself to me."

There was something to this new Cronos that struck Rhea to the centermost essence. While she was uncertain and afraid, she also returned his next kiss as if his rage was a passion worth returning in lustful stride.

Her hands explored his arms for the first time, appreciating his powerfully rough flesh. Where Ouranos was more ethereal than that of flesh and ichor, Cronos was tangible and in front of Rhea. Maybe she had not appreciated that before, but at that moment, she was finding it difficult not to enjoy him.

Instinct overcame reason for her. Rhea opened her legs for her husband despite her fear of her his actions, or more truthfully because of his forcefulness.

Cronos moved onward, pressing his manhood at the entrance of her wet, fertile cleft. "Is this how he had you? Is this what makes a King?"

"Don't—" Rhea cried at her husband. "Don't ruin us."

Though she cried out at him with her words, her body was betraying her truth to him. She could not help but gasp at feeling him enter her in a way he never had before.

"You already did that," Cronos declared, sliding even more deeply into his wife.

His whole body shivered at the contact. This had been what he had wanted all along. Rhea was for him to have all to himself. She had been his lifelong desire. With his rival gone from Olympus, he would possess her until the end of time itself.

She should have loathed him for accusing her, insulting her affection for Ouranos, even making it seem he might harm her or Aether.

Contrary to what she expected of herself, Rhea was more passionate because of his forcefulness. With every thrust into her, Rhea found new reasons to appreciate Cronos' actions.

She wrapped her legs around him, giving him complete access to her womanhood. Her moistened lower mouth wrapped around his veiny member. She accepted him in and out of her better than she had ever before.

Rhea screamed out for him. "Then give me a son! Give me a Prince, my King!"

She accepted all of him into her sex without a second thought. The screams that followed were a potent combination of loathing, lust, love, hatred, wanting, repulsion, and self-loathing.

Cronos did not recognize the multitude of emotions his wife experienced. All he cared about was pushing his full hardness into her only to withdraw and bring it back all the harder. His reclamation of her was for him, not his wife. He did not care about her enjoyment.

In the future, stallions would rut a mare in a fashion similar to how he had her. She was for his purposes, to give him children that were more beautiful and more powerful than little Aether. Her fertility surrendering to his seed would be the proof that he was the more worthy match for his wife than their father.

She would love his offspring to the exclusion of all else and forget the existence of Ouranos, and of Aether for that matter.

He kissed and bit at her neck. Trying as he might to retain control of himself, he found himself lost in the rapturous event; he could not help himself from squeezing her breasts with possessive affection despite his intention.

Even for all of his selfishness, Rhea gasped out in joy.

This side of Cronos was a filial reflection of her great love. In those moments when he knew what he was and wanted, Rhea knew she was the prize of all of his affection. She was his passion, his longing, even his very sanity.

"Are you a King?" She asked, moaning. Heated passion in her eyes told Cronos if he did not proclaim his position, Rhea would never look at him the same.

"I am King!" Cronos declared, not just to her but to all of Greece.

"King of Olympus!" Rhea cried out

"King of All!" Cronos exclaimed in contradiction to his wife. "You will give me a son, Rhea!"

He had his hands on her body and made sure with each thrust of force that she could feel all of his length inside of her. He made sure she was aware that her body was his in that moment. Nothing, not the Fates, not Ouranos, not even Gaia's words of caution could stop him.

"I will!" She screamed as she felt him in the deepest parts of her sex. The cries were not of pain, but reflected the intensity of the building climax within her.

He did not slow or stop. Her words were the catalyst for his motivation. They both grunted, groaned, and moaned together, obsessed with a dead King. In the end, Rhea would fantasize that her husband was Ouranos, giving her another son, even as Cronos claimed her, believing with every forceful insertion of his throbbing meat, he was taking back what was always his.

Together, in their heat, the climax was so loud it was heard in the Mortal Realm of Greece. He flooded her body with his ejaculation. When he was done, Cronos exhaled from his pleasure.

Withdrawing his softening phallic member from Rhea's body, he looked from her to the baby's crib. Aether had the good sense, in that moment, to be silent. Reason was returning to Cronos, and with that logic came the reminder of her infidelity. Perhaps Ouraos had forced her; perhaps not, but Cronos meant what he said. While he was not bloodthirsty, Rhea was his to have for all time.

"You better hope it is a boy, for Aether's sake," Cronos warned.

The declaration returned all of Rhea's rationality. Her love for her son came flooding back. "Don't harm him," Rhea said desperately. She could do nothing for Ouranos wherever he was, but Aether was her flesh and blood. That superseded everything.

"If it is a boy, he will be safe. If not, I will do to him what I did to Father."

From the quantity of fluid running down her leg, the Titan Queen knew there would be some result from their sex. Rhea wrapped her hands over her stomach with desperate hope. She prayed to Gaia and Chaos, pleading for a son to be growing in her womb as the result of their heated exchange.

**********

Chapter 2: The First Devouring

"You know of the mighty Titan, Cronos. So fearful was Cronos... that his own children would rise against him that he decided to imprison all in his belly. Rhea stood by and watched as her children were devoured one by one."

— Gaia, God of War II (2007), written by Marianne Krawczyk, Cory Barlog, and David Jaffe, copyright © Sony Interactive Entertainment.

The weight of destiny hung over his head. To make matters worse for Cronos, this inevitable forecast blended with the ache of his wife's alleged betrayal. Without knowing for certain if Rhea had willingly laid with Ouranos, there was only doubt to wallow in.

These truths left Cronos feeling more and more alone, without knowing who to trust. Unlike (and because of) his father, Cronos understood that the decisions he wrestled with would directly shape Mount Olympus but the whole of Greece itself.

That burden of ruling was constantly on his mind.

He could not complain to his brothers. Hyperion had gone out of the way to give Cronos the throne. Crius had stepped aside after his hands and arms had been decimated by their father in the battle against him, which made Cronos feel indebted to that particular brother. Coeus was so busy contemplating every facet of existence that he could not care for the ruling seat of power. Oceanus and Iapetus were too involved in their own lives. For Iapetus, it was loneliness; for Oceanus, it was the sea. Neither of them could be King of Olympus.

He could not protest his circumstance to any of his brothers when he was the only one of them that could be the leader of their brotherhood. All of those factors isolated the king until all he could do was think within the confines of his chamber.

The revelation of Aether's true parentage had not been a surprise; Cronos had expected it since the child's birth. That did not prevent the tempest of conflicting emotions from stirring within him in the moment. When it came to matters of the heart, Cronos was discovering that no amount of comfort and rationale could offer condolence; however, solitude would only make the wound worse.

Rhea's love for the child revealed to Cronos the depth of her love for Ouranos. That cut deeper than he had expected, and whether he knew it or not, her betrayal would forever etch scars on his heart.

The sad truth was that he could not kill Aether. Cronos still very much loved his wife regardless of what she had done. Killing her son, even if Ouranos was the father, would turn Rhea against him for the rest of time.

Is that what the Fates meant when they had told Gaia that his choices would determine if he would rule? By enraging Rhea, or losing her love for that matter, would he somehow lose his throne?

Or was it something else entirely? Was he blinded by his focus on the Titaness he loved to avoid some truth that mattered more?

The more he thought on the matter, the more the Fates' riddle was unfair. It could mean literally anything, and he could spend eternity grappling with every decision that would lead to some other possibility in the boundlessly cosmic of the multitudinous. Indecision would cripple him until he was afraid that each new choice would strip him of his reign.

This led him back to his wife's son.

Aether's existence would be a constant reminder of his father's selfish cruelty. The greed of Ouranos was embodied in that baby boy; He would exist as a wedge between Cronos and Rhea when they had been so happy before Ouranos' taking of Rhea.

How could his father damage so much with his selfishness? Ouranos had Gaia, the Primordial of the soil and earth itself. By Chaos' order, she had created Ouranos to be her perfect mate. How could his father spit on such a gift by stealing Cronos' wife?

The problem was Cronos was gripped by indecision. Ouranos had been undone by rash selfishness; Cronos would be damned if he would be as well. This led to Cronos deciding it was best to wait.

As time went on, Rhea would tell him she was pregnant with his child. This would ease his anger and pain. The Titanic siblings Theia and Tethys were also pregnant. The Kingdom of Olympus was expanding. For that, Cronos felt great pride. He could not imagine what he would do if Rhea did not give him a son.

**********

"He said that to you? Truly?" Gaia asked. The Primordial of the Earth stared at her daughter in completely undisguised, disgusted horror.

The two shared each other's company in the privacy of Rhea's palace on Olympus. Gaia had very little use for any of the many palaces in the divine city. She made her home elsewhere in the lands below the mountain of the deities.

After Ouranos' fall and Cronos' ascension, it made sense for Rhea to have her own home on Olympus rather than in the mortal realm below. After all, Rhea was Queen of Chaos' creation just as Gaia had once been, and so the realms should reflect her intentions.

"He did," Rhea answered honestly. Truthfully, she was horrified, both by Cronos' actions, and her reaction to them.

Dark as the entirety of the truth was, The Titan Queen would not tell her mother what else he did after his tantrum. Informing her mother of Cronos' bad behavior was one thing. In life, there are a plethora of options one has at their disposal, but to tell her mother that Cronos had been forceful in the bedroom, and Rhea accepted him into her bed enthusiastically was not a choice Rhea was prepared to make.

After all, Rhea needed her mother as an ally. Explaining the complexities of her relationship with Cronos might taint that possible collaboration.

"What am I supposed to do, Gaia?" Rhea shook her head as tears flowed. Genuine moisture came from her eyes even if she had ulterior motives. "I won't have any of my children living in fear of Cronos!"

Rhea did not need to state the obvious. The unspoken words for Ouranos were left in her mouth. She did not want to risk upsetting her mother with the reminder of her husband and his infidelity in any way. Although, and Rhea had to admit this to herself, both she and her baby were living proof of Ouranos' wandering eye.

Gaia exhaled as if the air itself were exhausting her.

Her daughter was right to be afraid. It was not because of what Cronos had done in defense of Olympus and the Realm, but because Cronos was letting his action against Ouranos take over who he once was. The transformation into this less feeling version of himself would not do for him or all of those that lived below Olympus.

"You may be right to be skeptical of him, Rhea," Gaia replied carefully. She did not want to sound as though she were condemning one child as she offered comfort to another. "The Fates told me that there is an unknown curse on Ouranos that could affect his bloodline or the throne."

That revelation gave Rhea a future to believe in. While she did not know how certain a message from the Fates could be, it was better than this unknown fumbling around in the darkness. If Gaia could illuminate Rhea's path, Rhea could face it all head-on even if it was fraught with danger.

"Is there a way to find out?" Rhea asked.

"There is," Gaia replied with a nod. "I will have to return to the Underworld and study what I learn there. When I am sure of that, I will return to you, but I will be away from Olympus, Rhea."

Gaia paused with genuine concern for her daughter. She was unsure how willing Rhea had been to lay with Ouranos, but Gaia accepted that her daughter had been a toy in her husband's plan. No matter how willing, Ouranos never should have taken advantage of their daughter's love for him. Once Gaia understood that part of it, she simply loved her daughter as a mother should.

"You will have to placate Cronos for a while," Gaia ordered.

Rhea did not seem to react poorly to the directive. That did not mean Gaia could be heartless. To not give favoritism to one child or another was the mark of a good mother, and the Earth Mother had accepted the charge of being a maternal unit to her twelve Titan offspring with distinction.

"Can you do that?" Gaia asked with more care. Confirming her daughter's safety was a reminded effort on her part to show her love to Rhea.

Rhea nodded. She sniffed and wiped away a tear. "What if I give birth to a girl?"

"Then you give birth to a girl, Rhea," Gaia said comfortingly. "We will deal with what comes afterwards, regardless of what Cronos does."

Rhea nodded and hugged her mother. Gaia kissed her daughter's forehead as they embraced. Upon breaking the contact, Gaia departed.

Left alone with her thoughts, Rhea shook her head. If Cronos harmed Aether, Rhea knew that she would never forgive him. In that unforgiving thought, she could not predict how, but Rhea would find a way to kill Cronos.

**********

Gaia did not know if time worked differently in the Underworld. It was not something she had thought of when she first visited the Realm of the Dead, but she could feel some sort of shift (temporal or otherwise she could not know) when she entered the Dark Realm.

As Gaia descended into its depths, she stepped with purpose towards her goal. Her eyes never left her target. She brought herself to the spirit of Ouranos.

She considered carefully how helpful he would be to her cause. With his selfishness in mind, she knew she might need to offer him some incentives, including telling him about Aether. Recalling the pain he had brought upon her, she found herself conflicted and wondered how much she could tell him without betraying Cronos since he was her new king.

The more consideration she gave it, the more she cautioned herself. Despite that need for caution, there was also indecision over the best approach to take.

As it was, the vast expanse of Tartarus disregarded her conflicting feelings and accepted her without prejudice. The Realm's eerie darkness, intertwined with the whispers of Primordials long forgotten to the newer generation, sent a shiver down Gaia's back.

She shook herself to regain her focus. Whilst caught up in the unusual feeling, she lost sight of the behemoth of a Primordial. She did not need to look far to locate her former husband.

Trudging with despair through the Realm was the Primordial of the Air, Father Sky, the Last Primordial: Ouranos. She might have said he was exactly as he was in life, but she knew that was not the case; he seemed emptier, more hollow, with flesh that was nearly transparent as she had seen him once before. Unlike in life, he had a golden-bloodstain on his groin. The wound from Cronos' scythe lingered, leaving Ouranos without any of his manhood even in death.

She was apprehensive when she approached. "Ouranos?"

For a moment, the Sky Primordial did not answer; rather he stared off, without focus on anything, as he walked ahead. When she called his name again, his ears pricked up and he turned his head slowly.

"Gaia?" Ouranos asked, uncertain of whether or not he was speaking to a hallucination.

Stopping his plod, he utilized a moment to collect himself to his circumstances. After all, as the first death, he was making discoveries about existence that many more would make for the rest of perpetuity. When he recognized Gaia was physically there, and not some specter of his imagination, he stared in baffled bewilderment.

Having known Ouranos all his life, Gaia recognized the facial contortions that were synonymous with him making a decision. He turned from her, and resumed his slow trek through the Underworld.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ouranos asked.

He had restarted his walk. Having been denied little in life, the expectation of her to follow was one that would be met. Death would not prevent custom from being denied.

Even with that portion of his personality intact, he could halt the shame from mixing with a certain measure of hatred. Together, that potent blend tinged his words.

Gaia was not without empathy. She had truly loved the husband given to her by the Great Progenitor. The rest of all time was the length by which they were meant to be together. To say that Gaia had taken her vows to heart was to underestimate the devotion she had given her husband. Regardless of his previous actions, her loyalty to Ouranos was still a primary motivation to Gaia's essential existence.

"Ouranos..." Gaia breathed. The name felt as natural for her to say as air was to breathe.

"Do not say my name!" Ouranos snapped back to Gaia.

His tone was a cautionary warning. His love had converted into wrath upon his death as so many facets of his murder had become clear. It appeared to him that death had granted him a certain clarity to recall truth.

Gaia understood and accepted the warning in stride. "I have come for your help," she said softly.

Ouranos stopped his walk once more before turning to stare at Gaia. Pure, unadulterated bewilderment was etched on his face. Before too long, when Gaia added nothing, a bark of laughter flew from his lips. It was so long and loud that it echoed throughout the Underworld's halls.

"You? You... You! You want my help?"

With every use to the word addressing Gaia, he found a certain insanity infecting the inflection of the following word until the incredulous question launched itself from his lips. For the first murdered being in existence, her request was entirely outside the realm of any reasonable reality.

"I never harmed you," Gaia said, returning his indignation with a calm serenity.

"No?" Ouranos asked. Accusation was lathered across the single-syllable designation.

"I have been given much time to think after my death, dear wife," Ouranos practically spat out. "I wondered: who gave our Titan children those tools? It could not have been our other repulsive children. I had them locked away here."

Ouranos paused to count her betrayals.

"Who readied Cronos? Who rallied our children to fight against me? Who did these things if not you? Who else could it be?"

The questions hung in the air like a barrier between them. Gaia would never reach them so long as she was guilty on each count. That meant the only answer to his interrogation wasto brandish a truth of her own.

"You did," Gaia retorted in answer.

While she had not come to be angry with her late husband, she found it was becoming increasingly easy with each of his questions. After all, should she allow this Primordial to escape responsibility for his transgressions? Had he been wronged without fault, he might have had a point, but they both knew better than that.

"Did you believe you were not at fault...?" Gaia started, standing up the ghost of her husband, "when you took your daughter to bed—our bed, to the very bed where we conceived her!"

The truth of her words might have wounded the once-Primordial King. However, he had long since believed himself to be infallible. Scars of a battle from recent memory would make it impossible for Gaia to reach him with ethos alone.

"After what you and that runt of a son did to me!" Ouranos howled in unrighteous indignation.

Gaia did not react to his words. When a weaker force had been brought down upon her, she stood her ground in the simple truth that she had been wronged by the one with the louder voice. Solace would not come often for rulers in the eons to come, but for Gaia, in that moment between them, she was not indignant of his reaction nor spurned by his behavior but standing upon the firm ground of righteousness.

For a moment, it appeared the Sky Primordial might continue his angry onslaught. Instead, confronted by the truth of Gaia's words and the look of broken disappointment in her eyes, Ouranos lowered his head in shame.

"For how I treated you, wife," he said meekly. "I am sorry." He lifted his head slowly to lock eyes with his previously loving partner. Sincerity radiated from his gaze. "I was wrong to let my ambitions and selfishness hurt you."

Gaia momentarily stared at Ouranos, confused. He had never been one to apologize in life. To see this quality about him in death was disconcerting.

"Thank you," she breathed, unsure of how to continue. She stole a moment's reprieve before pushing on. "This is not about you or me anymore. It is about your son."

Despite having believed he had his wife's amnesty for what had transpired in life, Ouranos flinched from hearing the title of his male offspring. His mind was captured by the memory of the battle between himself and his sons. He recalled the rage he had brought down upon them, the power at his command, and the sorrow of having it all stripped away.

Ouranos let out a laugh, almost turning from Gaia once more.

"I care nothing for that traitorous whelp Cronos," he declared in truth.

"Not Cronos," Gaia replied slowly. The wound that Aether was the product of her husband's infidelity still pulsed with an ever-present sting. To inform her husband of the existence of that child would only tear the laceration further. She knew, however, that she needed to open up if she wanted to encourage him to do the same. "Your union with Rhea produced a child. He is called Aether."

"Aether?" Ouranos asked.

A glint of nearly forgotten ambition that would never come to fruition swirled within his eyes. The Primordial of the Sky would say nothing of his former plans to the Earthly counterpart.

Gaia struggled to speak before swallowing her pride. He would have to hear what she had to say if she were to liberate the secrets of his prophecy with the Fates from him.

"Your son..." she barely choked out, "by Rhea." She straightened herself to regain her composure. Luckily for her pride, her husband was still so self-absorbed that he did not notice the inconvenience placed upon his one-time wife. "As of right now," Gaia went on, barely clearing her throat, "his destiny is uncertain. You know how effective Cronos is with his scythe..."

She trailed off, allowing the threat to hang in the air. While Ouranos was aghast at the possibility of Cronos slaying an infant, Gaia paused to allow the wound in Ouranos' heart to deepen. She had no intention of letting Cronos slay a child. She would do all she could to protect the boy even if he was a product of her late husband's unfaithfulness.

"If I can help ease Cronos' mind about a prophecy, however," she said, letting the words sting for another moment, "Aether might be allowed to survive and flourish in the care of his mother."

Ouranos almost jumped at Gaia. "He can't hurt him!" Ouranos exclaimed with honest paternal affection for his unmet son. "He's a child. He's done nothing wrong."

"Then help me put Cronos' fears to rest," Gaia pleaded. She loathed her own manipulation

Ouranos looked at Gaia and paused. While live had been nothing but giving to him, death had stolen much of his mind, all of his body, and had entirely maimed his soul.

"I don't recall the prophecy entirely," he honestly recollected. He was reaching for memories that had not been so important long ago to him. "But," he went on, "from what I remember, the throne is cursed."

Gaia looked at him in confusion. "What? What throne?"

"The Throne of Olympus," Ouranos explained. "Every King will be deposed by their most deserving son," Ouranos answered honestly. Death did not suit the Primordial. He kept grasping for memories that felt just out of reach.

"Every King?" Gaia asked.

Question after question raced through her mind. Olympus was built on the back of permanence. That the divine monument would have transient rulers was a concept that she struggled to believe. And yet, the Fates had not deceived her once. A distant, wishful thought in her mind that her husband's memory was faulty made her believe that Ouranos was wrong.

Ouranos battled for his memory with the Fates. He had been the first divine being to experience death in the land of Greece, and there were consequences beyond his body being destroyed. He continued to scrape through his decayed mind before the answer finally came to him.

Desperate, aspiring belief was written all over Gaia's face. When he believed he had the answer, he could recognize a certain recklessness in Gaia. Once she was given the information she wanted, her life would be made easier, but in so telling her the truth, Gaia might never return to see him.

That was not a reasonable outcome for him. After all, If he did not see her again, he would know nothing of Rhea or his newborn son, Aether.

This is where his weakened mind needed to earn its keep. His wants were different than that of Gaia. To be alone in the Underworld was not an outcome Ouranos would tolerate.

Gaia was not there for him. After he had lain with Rhea, he had lost his once-wife's love. With that love gone, so too was her loyalty to him. Where once she would have accepted whatever he had said without excessive protest, including locking away the Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires, he knew there was an irrevocable shift in their once-immovable marriage.

After she helped Cronos slay Ouranos, her loyalties had been decided. Perhaps they had been given to their son; perhaps, they had moved to herself, but they were no longer with Ouranos and never would be again.

Conflict over that interpretation of events built up inside of him. For his death alone, Ouranos owed Gaia nothing. The problem was that he returned to the loneliness that he feared. He needed the prospect of her coming back.

There was only one answer that made that possibility into a probability.

"The curse could end with him," Ouranos lied. "It might go on repeatedly, Gaia, but that is what I remember."

Gaia looked at Ouranos to intuit if he was being truthful. She could see there was a certain affection for the son. Sadness swept over her heart since she knew that he would never be privileged to meet little Aether.

If there was enough reason to tell the truth, that was it, and so, for that solitary moment, Gaia believed him as she had once trusted him in life.

"I will tell him," Gaia promised.

As she turned to leave, Ouranos accepted she would likely not return, and it broke his heart. Desperately, he reached out to Gaia.

"Is... Is Aether well?" Ouranos asked, tears falling from his eyes. He could not help that grief struck him harder than any weapon.

Sickness was not something the Primordials knew of. However, knowing that his murderer was the caretaker of his last child, Ouranos worried. Gaia was not one to harm others, let alone an innocent child, but he needed his fears to be put away.

Gaia did not turn back to face him again. How could she? She had come for duty, but when discussing Aether, she felt the love that she had once bore for her husband. Had he wanted a child like Aether, she would have given that child to Ouranos. She would have done everything in her power to make Ouranos happy.

Gaia did not hold the child's birth against the. To a smaller degree, she tried not to begrudge her late husband. Nevertheless, the pain of his actions still wounded her, so she allowed herself a fallibly petty retort.

"He's your spitting image, husband," she said, almost begrudgingly. She lowered her voice to reflect the sorrow in her hear. "It is a shame you had to conceive him by straying from our marriage."

The condemnation, though mild, was more damning than anything that had been done to him in life. Ouranos fell to his knees. He was painfully aware he had lost more than just his sex.

"I am sorry, Gaia. For everything."

Gaia heard his apology, but said nothing. How could she? Ouranos had ruined everything with his ambition and wayward eye. She left Ouranos to weep in despair. That would be punishment enough.

**********

"Then we don't know?" Cronos exclaimed when Gaia returned. She informed him as soon as she arrived.

While he had heard all his mother had spoken about her adventure to the Underworld, irrationally fearful anger had overtaken Cronos. While he had only hated Aether's existence for being the product of Ouranos' lust, Cronos was coming to fear the possibility that he might lose everything to that child.

"I won't be deposed by Aether. I won't lose everything to Ouranos' son."

Gaia lifted her hands, trying to calm her angered son. Her power in the lands were not swayed by a crown or simple prestige. She was steadfast, firm, and a part of the existence that her children were willing to take for granted.

"I do not believe it that simple, my son," she said calmly. "From what I have gathered, each King will be deposed by their most worthy son, not their father's son, so your brother is no threat to you."

Cronos crushed another pillar of his palace in his rage. Gaia's clear-minded thinking only upset him more rather than eased him. Whatever tools she believed she had, only decisive action could balm the growing paranoia slipping into his mind.

He did not know what to do or where to go. He could not punish Gaia. She was his mother and did nothing wrong other than serve her. The option of using the scythe never even crossed his mind. He turned away from her instead. His fears were merging with his wrath.

When this happened, he did not know what he might do. Rather than give into his passions, he did what he should have from the start.

"I will find out more!" Cronos swore.

Gaia tried to stop him. There was more to talk about. After going to the Underworld repeatedly in quick succession, and the discussion of offspring, made Gaia recall her other children by Ouranos. She had always tried to liberate them from their prison. Their jailing had been wrong, and their weapons were what had made all the difference in raising Cronos up.

With Cronos in power, she hoped that this would make all the difference in commuting her childrens' sentence.

"About your siblings in Tartarus—"

Cronos would not hear her. He was lost in a Realm devoid of reason. Hepushed past his mother and vanished. As surely as she knew Chaos had made life for so many, she knew that her son would be going to the Underworld.

To be pushed aside by her son, when she had been nothing but a good and loyal mother as well as his counselor was maddening to Gaia. She had been faithful in her duty to Cronos.

Why would he not reciprocate that kindness? Was that to be the way of Greece? Kindness would be spurned and rulers would become entitled?

Gaia let out a scream of frustration. She was a Primordial Daughter of Chaos. She had made the Titans. It was from her that most of the divinities would come from. It was her line that would populate the Realm. Nyx, Tartarus, Erebus, Eros, and Ouranos were not the ones making a foundation to last for eons more. It was her.

And what did she want?

She wanted all of her children free and to be in the existence she had helped make. Unfortunately, with Cronos' obsessive fears, she worried that day would never come.

**********

Rhea overheard the conversation as she held little Aether. She could not be more overjoyed. In her womb, there was another child, she prayed Cronos's nightmare would come true. Let him have his son, and she would raise him to kill Cronos, even as Cronos had killed Rhea's love, Ouranos.

She cuddled Aether and hoped he would help her train this usurping son. Rhea would do all she could so this next King did not have the prophecy used against him. After all, her children had done nothing wrong. It was Cronos who had started this cycle with his bloodthirsty nature. Why could he not have left well enough alone? Had Cronos been as unobservant as always, Rhea would have married him and only occasionally stepped out to please, and be pleased by her Kingly father. If little Aether grew up in the image of his father, Ouranos, Rhea could learn to let go of her first love. Aether could become more of a King than his father or brother, and Rhea would be his Queen. Or her next son could inherit the throne, and Rhea would marry Aether after Cronos's demise. What mattered was that Cronos would no longer be in the land of the living.

**********

Cronos had never been to Tartarus. Before he was king, he was happy to simply be in Rhea's company or growing wheat out in his fields; after his ascent, there had been little reason to leave his palace.

Though, in his heart of hearts, Cronos knew the truth that he could not voice to anyone. His wife, mother, and siblings could all suspect the verity, but Cronos would never confirm it for them. He was afraid of the other parts of Chaos' creation.

After slaying his father, he had become the first killer in this existence. Someday, there would be those that would go so far as to call him a murderer.

All of that weighed down upon him with the immensity of the heavens focused through the lens of metal that rested on his head.

When his mind returned to the task before him, the desolate Realm seemed to stare at him until he felt shaken in his core.

His surroundings were dark, cold, and unfeeling, which was unlike the Living Realm of Greece. Tartarus' domain was the opposite of the heavenly mountain of Olympus in every sense.

More than the oppressive environment, there was a sensation within him that he could not easily explain. The heart of this feeling was that he felt as if his cosmic power would abandon him and would only leave him as a hollow husk rather than the king he was. Even if his power stayed, the isolation would consume him.

He grabbed the wall. A craving for even the slightest connection started to seep into his veins. The contact stabilized him. He could recall where he was and the mission he was meant for.

Tartarus would not do well for a deity such as Cronos. That much was made clear by this brief visit.

He shook his head to focus. He knew that he needed to speak with them quickly and leave. He had no plans to stay even before he arrived, but upon seeing what the Realm of Nyx did to him, Cronos knew he would have to make his trek short.

The Underworld had more shocks for the Titan King.

As the slayer of Ouranos, Cronos was astounded to view the ghostly form of his father.

The Primordial King trudged forward. His eyes were glazed over. Whatever he saw, it was unlikely that the view was that of the dark world around him.

Cronos could see the damage that he had inflicted upon the Primordial King when they had battled in recent memory. The golden scar of dried ichor marked the Last Primordial's groin where his genitals should have been. A line was on his neck from where the scythe had been swung. It served as a lasting memory of Cronos' final attack against his father.

Cronos almost felt a pang of sympathy for his fallen father, but it would not last as he recalled his father's debaucherous deed with Rhea. Hatred was a powerfully intoxicating emotion that Cronos was learning to lean on.

He let out a single breath of laughter at the fallen ruler. Never would Cronos allow such a doom come for him.

Seeing his father did not deter Cronos from his quest. Quite the opposite was occurring. To know what brought his father down and wishing to know how to avoid such a depressing existence were quickly becoming the prime purposes for Cronos.

He turned his head away and looked onward until he found the large, opulent edifice of the lands. Making his way there was the simplest decision to make. When it came to fear of the possible versus of the pain of reality, there was no choice at all.

Entering the home of the Sisters was not the norm for Cronos. He felt some indescribably tangible difference in his surroundings. It was as if there was an atmosphere around him, cloaking him in a thick air.

The dimly lit chamber of the Fates was decorated to the brim with a beautiful tapestry along the walls that he ignored. There were many flames in bowls that were on long, thin stands. He could assume that the images in the tapestries were some predictions of the future. As he did not recognize anyone in the imagery, he disregarded their importance. What did their prophecies of the Realm mean to him when he was dealing with more meaningful issues like his destiny?

These thoughts came and went as Cronos marched forward. He straightened his back to bring him to his full height while making his way to the three female divinities hard at work. They hardly seemed to notice his arrival.

Cronos stood before those three powerful beings. In turn, their eyes fixed upon him with an eerie gaze. In a voice that was both uncertain and curious, Cronos addressed the compilers of destiny. He would never disrespect them as Ouranos had. Dread of losing all that he had gained ensured that he would not have a similar failing.

His failing would be entirely his own. Rather than greet them, he simply started speaking by talking about what he cared for.

"Please... Tell me, Sisters of Fate, is it true?" Cronos asked, pleading. He outstretched his hands as far apart in a placating gesture to implore them to tell him what he wanted to know. "Is there a prophecy about me to lose everything? Am I not allowed to keep the throne I won?"

It was the eldest of the Fates, Atropos, who replied to him. Her voice was drenched with wisdom beyond even the Titans and Primordials, for she was the Sister who contemplated all that could one day be. While most could not see what was right in front of them, she saw what was in front of herself, and what was hidden from plain view.

"Your destiny is simple, Great King," she said. "Just as you dethroned your father, so too shall you be overthrown by your son."

Cronos felt a knot tighten in his stomach growing into a boulder that threatened to destroy him by pulling him into an abyss of despair. With such an indictment of his causal circumstance, the Fates' revelation of truth felt more like sentencing.

Strangely, there was some relief to Cronos. The throne would not go to his brothers like Hyperion, Crius, or even Aether as his mother had intimated. Cronos would not be able to live with himself if he found himself losing all that he had gained to his father's offspring.

"Which of my sons?" Cronos asked with a dry throat.

Misery coated his words. His mind was quick to find a reasonable answer to give himself comfort. The condemnation was overwhelming, and he would reject the denunciation however he could.

"I have not had children, so," he hesitated, "which of my unborn sons shall be my undoing?"

While having no offspring at the moment, Cronos understood how time moved into the future. He could not be so arrogant to believe that just because he was not a father yet, that he would not one day give Rhea prince and princesses for the mountain of Olympus.

The Fates' laughter filled the air. As their cackles at Cronos overlapped one another, the noise formed a haunting chorus that sent sharp daggers of ice up and down Cronos' spine. An echo of their joy rang throughout the chamber to mock his plight.

"Your youngest son shall be the instrument of your downfall when you least expect it," Atropos declared.

"But..." Cronos stuttered in disbelief. He looked back and forth, between the sisters. He was trying to force his logic onto their prophecy. "I told you that I have no children."

"Too true," Lachesis remarked insightfully. She almost seemed impressed that he had given that reasoning. "If you never lay with any Titaness again, you might avert your destiny."

Cronos sank to his knees in anguish. He had battled his father to be with Rhea. After Ouranos stole his own rightful prize of Rhea; s virginity to then be required to endure a sexless marriage with her in order to continue his rule, their words heaped insult onto injury. A future without possessing Rhea in every possible way would not do.

He begged them as no King of Olympus had done before, but the Sisters knew his pleading would not be the last time a ruler would come to them in such a disgraceful manner.

"Is there no other way?" Cronos appealed in the form of a cry. His voice cracked with emotion to display the depth of the damage that their words had on him. "Can I not break this unfair cycle?"

The genuine way his words were spoken reached the daughters of Nyx. They expected him to say it; after all, Atropos had seen it in the weave before Ouranos was ever slain. However, to see it in the moment was entirely separate from seeing it in a vision. To experience it, with every emotion that entailed, actually swayed the three of them.

The Fates regarded him with solemn gazes before exchanging a single look between each other. Together, they could see the sincerity within him, which was very much unlike his predecessor. It might be unfair of them to make the son carry the burdens of his father. Because of that single thought, a mercy was shared between them, and they used their magic to see into the weave of destiny as one. Their eyes filled with the weight of all that had been and all that would be.

"There is a way," Clothos whispered, barely audible. "Surrender your rule to your firstborn son, and the cycle shall be broken."

Cronos' heart sank further in his chest. The very thought of relinquishing his rightful power over the cosmos was altogether perverse to him. Olympus was his to reign over. He had earned it with the swing of scythe. No other being had succeeded where Cronos had when it came to battling his father. Crius, Hyperion, and this unborn child were all lesser. He had won! Why should he simply give it up? Why could he not have all that he desired? That was his right as king.

The idea of yielding all he had to another was in opposition with who he was since becoming king. He had taken a stand, and he had been rewarded. To meekly back down was the antithesis of that. Even standing down for his flesh and ichor was impossibility itself.

The Fates' words might hold the weight of truth, but Cronos was reasoning that no one was infallible. Perhaps, he could not defy their wisdom, but the throne was his. He had given up Rhea's virginity and had committed the first killing for it. It was his, it would belong to no other.

"I will never yield the Throne of Olympus," Cronos swore before them.

Where before, there might have been desperation or even humility. In the place of those more admirable qualities, there was conceited selfishness that disappointed the Sisters.

The three Sisters accepted what he said. Once more, the outcome was predictable even though they had wanted it to not be so. Cackles escaped their lips in response to his declaration and to the unremarkably expected nature of Titan King.

"Then, by your words, you doom yourself, King Cronos!" Lachesis spat.

She looked at him with such disdain that Cronos momentarily hesitated. What might have been changed in the history of Olympus if that Titan had reconsidered himself is unclear. Instead, he stood his ground for all he desired.

The Sisters of Fate looked into the Tapestry of Destiny, delving into its wondrous secrets. They saw the infinite possibilities in a way that no other deity could appreciate. Choice after choice, of the living and the dead, flashed before them. Primordial, Titan, god, mortal, and even the winds of the Progenitor itself blew before them to show the fluidly harmonious motion of life.

While all that swirled before them in a cacophony of amazing beauty that Cronos could never appreciate, they stood. For them, they could see the choices that Cronos would make because he knew of no other way to be, but they also saw the conflict in his siblings, his siblings' children, his wife, and even his mother. Through all of them, anything could happen, but in the end, they saw it. The path Cronos would take, just as Ouranos had taken the path he walked that inevitably led to his downfall.

And so, the three, in rhyme and verse declared Cronos' cosmic causal conclusion:

The trueborn son, the destined heir,

shall rise against his sire,

With powerful purpose, a struggle foretold,

a cosmic dance of fire,

Each King deposed by his kin,

in echoes of the past,

With each passing era, a twist of fate,

a gentler blow to cast.

For as the wheel of time turns

and dynasties come undone,

The pain that fills the regal halls

shall fade with each new son,

With mercy granted,

a kinder touch shall reign,

As Kings succumb,

the cycle repeats again.

So heed the words,

Cronos King,

Release your throne,

let destiny sing,

In the ebb and flow of power's tide,

let the cycle gently turn,

And grant your heirs a future bright

where compassion's fire shall burn.

Cronos heard every word. However, when the moment came to find his voice, he could only stare at them in powerless disbelief. He might have objected or demanded as his father had, but a force pulled him from their palace.

He exclaimed his frustration at being withdrawn from their palace. Though, the deeper truth was that he was falling deeper into his own arrogant self-obsession that he was railing at his inability to command them.

These prophecies were not his fault. Ouranos had been the terrible ruler, Rhea had been the stupid girl to be pulled in by their father, and even the Fates were at fault with their manipulation of his rightful tomorrow. All of them were trying to take everything from him.

With all roads wrested from him, Cronos realized what he needed to do. Action had given him his throne and only by being proactive, not reactive, would be able to keep it.

Those others all had stolen his choices from him.

Summoning the divine power from within him, a flash of light carried Cronos from the depths of the Underworld to the mightiest peak in Greece.

The Grand Halls of Olympus welcomed its king back with an open invitation, but his heavy footsteps mirrored the storm within his mind. Even the serenity of the divine realm could not stop his face from contorting with rage, and his eyes burning with icy ferocity.

With all that he had heard from the Fates, from all he knew of Ouranos and his taking of Rhea, from Rhea's love of Aether, from Gaia caring more for some disfigured monsters than him, he knew what needed to be done with crystal-clear intent.

As Cronos shoved open the doors to Rhea's private chambers, the room fell under the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the windows. On the sumptuous bed adorned with silken sheets lay Rhea peacefully lost in slumber.

She was his wife and queen. She had been all he had ever wanted in a partner. She had been his desire, his love, his care, the most beautiful being in all of existence, but it was clear to Cronos that she had not returned his affections to the same magnitude.

That pain opened the Titan King's perspective to new avenues of thought. Rhea had once loved Ouranos; of that much, he was convinced. She must have loved him. Why else would she love her precious bastard boy? But what about Cronos? Had he not loved her first? Was that not enough for her? He had cared for Rhea since he was little. They were made for one another, meant to spend eternity together.

Then, and for their father no less, she threw that away!

Cronos approached the bed with a single minded purpose. He was careful not to outwardly show his rage; nevertheless, his anger seethed just beneath the surface when he looked at Rhea.

He had once cherished her serene face. Those soft features in the gentle moonlight would have once brought him the greatest joy one could imagine. Moment by moment, the beauty that he had admired since they were children was quickly turning into a disgusting abhorrence.

She could never know. Rhea was lost to bliss in her slumber.

Her very happiness only hardened his heart further. Her euphoria was once enough for him, but in that moment, he understood that it came from a source other than him, and he burned all the more.

When his repulsion of what he suspected of her pulled him away, his gaze fell upon Aether. There he was: a symbol of Rhea's love and devotion to Ouranos. Is that where his wife found the core of her bliss? Was it always Ouranos? And through him, that bastard Aether...

She cradled that abomination gently in her arms. The sight further fueled his resentment of Rhea. Reminders of Cronos' shortcomings were not common, but he could recognize it when he saw it.

If what the Fates said was true, and Cronos was unsure if he could trust them, Aether would not be the one to overthrow him. He would, however, always exist to remind Rhea she loved another and had allowed Ouranos into the one place where only Cronos was meant to be. That was the greatest pain. It was not that she had given herself Ouranos, but that Rhea had loved that selfish monster.

Ouranos already had a wife in Gaia, but he had still conspired to steal Rhea. Cronos did not know why, or what for, but Ouranos had taken Rhea, not for love, but for his own gain. Cronos loved Rhea with all his heart, and he had not been enough because he had not been King at the time. He had rectified that mistake of destiny through his retaliation against his father.

He would now fix the mistake known as Aether (and so many more) through his actions.

Cronos forcefully snatched up Aether from Rhea's embrace. His grip tightened, betraying the desperation and bitterness that had captured him. The cracks in his veneer of control would soon break.

Rhea slowly stirred, starting to wake as Aether cried out for her. Though he did not know it fully, the baby was sensing the danger emanating from the Titan King.

Rhea was by no means a morning person. There had never been a necessity to excite alarm within her, so she was struggling to even open her eyes. Cronos, in turn, waited for her to wake just enough to watch what he was doing.

Rhea rubbed her eyes before she gasped in startled realization. Her precious baby boy was no longer in her arms. She looked left to right before seeing the mountainous Titan that was Cronos with her innocently vulnerable baby.

Cronos had madness in his eyes, and Rhea panicked. "Cronos! What are you doing?"

Even with the child that represented his wife's infidelity in his hand, Cronos still held back his wrath. It would do him no good to give into his feelings. He needed this confirmation from Rhea.

"Did you love him?" Cronos asked, demanding of Rhea.

The feelings of rage and betrayal boiled up and over within him until those emotions finally gave way to a crackled clarity. From there, Cronos forced out the words that he had once dreaded the answer to.

Rhea was exhausted from a day's worth of caring for her child and having been snatched back from slumber. She was not entirely aware of what Cronos was referring to. It did not help matters that she was panicking at Cronos' actions.

"What? What are you saying, Cronos?" Rhea stammered out in the form of a question.

Despite her inhibited mental faculties, she persevered in trying to decipher what he wanted. She knew that since Cronos had killed Ouranos, he had been the only being to end a life in Greece. That thought had never left her mind. He could easily end the life of the child she adored. That was why she had never let Aether out of her sight. She assumed Cronos would never harm her, but in that moment, she could not know whether he would harm her or the child.

"Did you love him, Rhea?" Cronos asked, pronouncing every syllable as if it were both accusation and confirmation of his suspicions. "Did you love Ouranos? Did you willingly go to his bed? Do you love him still?"

Rhea hesitated in fear of how to answer. The truth would seal her son's fate, and a lie would likely do the same since Cronos would not believe her. She could not fight her husband. She had some skills with magic, but she had not honed them how Cronos had been perfecting his swinging of a scythe. There was no path to victory for Rhea.

"Cronos. You're talking madness!" Rhea cried out in motherly desperation. "Please! Put Aether down!" Tears welled up in Rhea's eyes.

The danger Aether was facing was becoming more and more palpable by the moment. In her heart, she knew that if she begged, there would be only one inevitable conclusion.

"Answer me!" Cronos demanded.

Rhea stared at her husband. She was unable to do more than blurt out, "Don't hurt him!"

Her mind was working furiously, hoping that her fears were somehow unjustified, but even if they were not, she was not powerful enough to stop her husband from physically harming her child. This weakness told her that Cronos would decide the future for not just Aether, but hers as well.

The look in Cronos' eyes only grew more intense at her lack of an answer. "Did you let Ouranos fuck you, Rhea?"

When the question was heard, Rhea could fully see the hatred and malice in her husband's eyes. He had already made the decision to destroy her link to Ouranos. There was no saving Aether. No answer, lie or truth, would be enough for Cronos.

An icy coldness swept over her at the idea of Cronos taking the great gift that Ouranos had given to her. From her flesh to her veins and all the way to her heart, the cold chill spread. For her, time was measured out to the most infinitesimal fractions of a second until there was only one answer.

"Yes," Rhea hissed in protest of her husband's attitude. "I did, and I would have lain with him a hundred more times! He never would have done something like this. He was more deserving than you!"

She screeched the words out. She might have flailed and reached for her son if it did any good. Instead, she stood where she was. Aether would be destroyed. There was nothing to be done. All that was possible for her was to stand her ground as best she could.

"Perhaps he was!" Cronos barked back.

The confirmation of his wife's betrayal was not the painful blow he had once worried it would be. Contrarily, It was the final push he needed. Motivation came in many forms, but his wife either lashing out in rage or confirming his suspicions was enough for him.

"But I have the throne, not Ouranos! You are my wife, not his! I will have from you all the things Ouranos always wished for," Cronos swore.

This was not just a vow for her ears. It was for himself. It was for Ouranos. It was for the Fates. It was a declaration that would stand the test of eternity. No one would take Rhea from him.

"And you!" Cronos shouted at the baby. "You will never see the light of day again."

Rhea jumped up at that sentence. It was her only chance, and she fought Cronos, trying to stop him from harming Aether, but it was too late.

The tiny baby dropped into Cronos' maw. There was no ceremony nor was it like a meal where he would need to chew. Titan King swallowed the child whole. The matter was settled.

When Aether was gone and both parties knew it, Cronos pushed Rhea to the floor.

"And you, my wife, you will give me many children," he snapped. "You will give me all I want! But be certain of this! Any boy you birth, I will devour, and they will keep your precious Aether company in my belly."

For him, that was all there needed to be said.

Rhea stared fiercely back at her husband. By no means was this her ending. Her disgusted repulsion, the simmering hatred, and the burning loathing all swelled and mixed together into a potent amalgamation that might never leave her spirit.

She might not have the strength or power to harm him physically. He had slain the Last Primordial after all. However, that would not restrain her from the vengeance in her heart.

From that day forth, Rhea had the gift of resolve. No power, no magic, no muscle, no weapon would prevent her from undoing all that Cronos was and taking that which he loved most away from him.

He might be King of Olympus, but it would not be a remembered tenure when Rhea had her way.

**********

Chapter 3: The Madness of Cronos

"Cronus' son has trapped me in madness, blinding ruin -"

— Agamemnon, The Iliad by Homer (~8th Century BCE), translated by Robert Fagles, Penguin Classics, 1990.

In the days that passed after Cronos' act of cannibalism, an unease washed over Mount Olympus like a blanket of rain.

The Titan brothers and sisters were horrified by their brotherly king's actions. While no one, not even Cronos, could be sure what consuming another divinity would result in, they knew it could not be good. To kill another deity required powerful weapons or so much might and force that their life was snuffed out.

Well, that is what they thought. None of the other Titans had taken a hand at killing like Cronos had. On average, the other Titans were proliferating the lands. Those children of Gaia and Ouranos made wondrous creations like the sun and draped Nyx's night sky with light called stars.

Whether because of creating, making families, or simply disgusted by Cronos' behavior, none of his siblings would dare confront their Titan King over this outrageous behavior.

Because of her children's despondency, it was Gaia who tried to connect to her wayward son by coming to see him. After all, if nothing else, there was a primal truth that she was leaning on. She was his mother; giving birth and raising someone since their first days of life needed to be worth enough to make them listen.

Though, in the end, when she came to Olympus, she did not come to discuss the loss of Aether or Cronos' unjustified actions to his half-brother. Her thoughts were not with Ouranos and Rhea because she was entrenched by family. That is ultimately what the divinities were on Olympus. They were all related and (therefore) connected to one another.

The Titans were the sons and daughters of Gaia and Ouranos, but they were free to do whatever they desired. While Ouranos had been slain, his injustices still prevailed. There were children from Gaia, who had been punished unfairly.

The inequity created a weight of concern that was visible on the Earth Primordial's features. This led her to physically being in front of her son. Gaia had crowned her youngest son after his rise to power. It was her who had officiated over the wedding of her son and daughter even though it hurt her to even look at Rhea.

While Gaia was certain that Rhea was not responsible for Ouranos' infidelity, there was pain from the core of Gaia's soul that was irritated by being in close proximity after catching Ouranos with Rhea. To add insult to injury, Gaia had been there to help Rhea give birth to that first child in Aether. The babe was an innocent being; of that, Gaia was aware, but that did not stop the irrational pain sourced from his existence.

One child eaten, six imprisoned. Something, somewhere needed to be put a stop to. To stop the crime against her children had to be possible because the source of that pain had come from the one being that Gaia, Cronos, the Cyclopes, and Hecatoncheires all hated: Ouranos.

When she gazed into the brooding eyes of her selfish son, the possibility of changing that situation appeared futile. However, she believed that she might succeed as his mother. After all, if she could allow him one act of cruelty from him, perhaps he would perform one act of generosity in kind.

"Cronos," Gaia began with cautious solicitation. She lowered her head in respect of the office he held.

She eyed her son carefully. A certain clarity was missing from her once-sweet child. That made predicting his actions difficult.

"Now that you have spoken to the Fates," she went on, "I implore you to reconsider the future of the Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires. After all, they are your elder siblings. You know and I both know that their imprisonment in Tartarus has gone on far too long, and it was another injustice of your father."

She was careful not to mention Ouranos by name because she feared that hearing mention of the Sky Primordial might set Cronos off. His hatred of Ouranos ran deep as it did for Gaia. In some ways, it was greater still; after all, Gaia had known Ouranos all his life, but Cronos had known Ouranos for all of the Titan King's life.

Despite being Cronos' mother, she knew that the Throne of Olympus was sacrosanct. As Chaos had crowned Ouranos himself and Gaia crowned Cronos, there was some unspoken understanding that whoever sat upon the seat of power on Olympus was placed above all others. Much like Ouranos, this was not to be undone except in the gravest of circumstances.

Gaia herself had given her son the power to reign over the Realm when she placed that new crown upon his head. That was Gaia's choice (perhaps even a mistake); nevertheless, this entitled Cronos to decide the future of all in Greece, including the futures of Gaia and the imprisoned children.

He stood as an enormous edifice of himself, beaming with pride before her. Gaia could see how immovable her son was becoming in his role as king. Though, she found herself wondering if this came from killing Ouranos, consuming Aether, or if the throne and crown had endowed him with this newfound confidence.

His brow furrowed at his mother's request. This might have been a reflection of the weight of his responsibility as the Ruler of the Titans or simply a symptom of his more unhinged nature. When he faced Gaia, she could see that he no longer recognized her as his mother but as his subject.

"Gaia," he replied with resolve. "After seeing the Fates and ending Aether's corrupted existence, I have no intentions of freeing the Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires."

To hear his verdict brought rise to Gaia's innate sense of fairness. She began to protest when Cronos held up a hand to silence her.

"As you know, my imprisoned siblings possess too much power," he went on, "and could be a great risk to myself and the stability of Olympus."

Gaia stared at Cronos with hurt indignation upon hearing the words. To see him lose so much of his empathy as a result of gaining his throne was not something she had intended for her son. However, she could not let that cloud her judgment or deter her from her quest.

She softened her expression, knowing that she could not lose this chance. If she allowed anger over this injustice to rule her, Cronos would ignore her, just as Ouranos had. Setting aside her maternal concern, she persevered.

"They are family, Cronos, she said softly. "Yours as well as mine! They helped you even before you knew that you would need it by giving you your scythe. Could you have bested your father without their tools? They deserve a chance at freedom."

Cronos sighed heavily at his mother. Perhaps he was teetering on the decision. Maybe Gaia's words could make the difference.

He nodded his head, recalling the day of his rebellion against Ouranos. Memories of fear and uncertainty coated his thoughts. He recalled the push and pull of battle. Feelings that made him question his own anger at his father. However, for all of those memories of that day, none of it mattered because he had won and was made king.

"You're right," he admitted slowly. "The Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires did play a vital role in helping me depose Father. I recall that kindness," Cronos acknowledged. Though he agreed with his mother, his voice was tinged with aggression. "But what if someday a child of mine wants to fight me as I fought Ouranos? Couldn't my 'siblings' decide that I waited too long to free them, or that they want the throne for themselves?"

Cronos stopped talking and shook his head. While he was denying Gaia, the Earth Primordial could see that Cronos was struggling to say the words he let out.

"No. Their powers are too great," Cronos repeated as he continued to shake his head. "I won't risk them being free."

Even before he declared his decision, Gaia could see the negative coming. Nonetheless, she reached out to her son, gently placing a hand on Cronos' arm.

"Son? Please?" she implored. Her eyes could not hide the desperation of her heart from her son.

If nothing else, she was his mother. She had loved her son since his birth. When Ouranos had his gaze on other projects, it was Gaia who had showered her children with love. She had not played favorites. For that time, she had made sure that Cronos was as cared for as all of her children. Surely, he could return that familial affection when it mattered most.

Cronos' gaze softened at her love, returning a kindness in turn by placing his hand atop of hers. For the smallest moment, Gaia believed her son would do the right thing. His resolve momentarily seemed to waver as he looked upon Gaia's earnest face.

"Gaia," Cronos spoke with soft sympathy yet heavy conviction. "I will not do it."

With a heavy heart, Gaia locked eyes with her son. She searched for any crack or crevice she could latch onto. What she found was the firm coldness of an unbunging wall. It was all too clear that the judgment was final, and all she could do was nod to accept Cronos' decision.

She did not weep, she did not wail, she did not cry, and she did not fight him. Gaia had once been Queen of Olympus by order of her Creator. She was a true daughter of Chaos, one of five beings to wholly be made by the Progenitor. There was a dignity in that distinction in comparison to her Titan children.

As such, when she fully accepted his words, she turned away from the Titan King of Olympus. Reality set in. The Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires would continue to deteriorate, which would continue to destroy Gaia's soul. As their mother, their pain was her pain.

For the moment, there was nothing to be done. To give up was not within Gaia. She would wait. A day would come when her children would be allowed to exist in a reality where Gaia's Earth was beneath their feet and Ouranos' sky was above their heads.

**********

From the news of Cronos devouring Aether to Rhea's wailing or even Cronos' disrespectful denial of Gaia's reasonable request, the lands of Greece rumbled from the information. The Titanesses felt a kinship with Rhea while the Titan brothers could not believe Cronos would devour a child. Unfortunately for Cronos, the information of Aether's parentage was not widespread information. Only his mistakes were being broadcast.

It was deep within the confines of a secluded cave on the coastal edges of Greece that Hyperion met with his Titan brethren.

Hyperion stood tall and imposing. As the radiant Titan of Light, his golden hair cascaded down his broad shoulders like strands of living light to display his majesty. Though he was smooth along his jaw, it only added to his attractiveness. If ever another divinity, from another realm, were to visit the lands of Greece, they would be forgiven for mistaking Hyperion for the King of Olympus. He simply shone with amazing, celestial beauty as if it were his right just by existing.

Oceanus was thoughtful and serene when compared to his bright sibling as the Titan of the Ocean. His skin had a tinge of blue about it with a pulsing fluidity to his flesh, but he was as tall and as strong as his brothers. On his face was a long flowing beard matching the one sported by his fallen father. With a preternatural grace, he sat on a large, jagged rock as if it were a throne.

Crius bore scars on his hands and forearms from a battle that few would truly know or understand. What he and his brothers had considered to be a simple scuffle was quickly being discussed as matters meant for legend. His broken hands were evidence of the cruelty of Ouranos. However pained or marked he was by his father's attack, he was still a pinnacle of strength and power with honed muscles that were more pristine than even those of his brother, Cronos. Starlight and battle coursed through his very veins. He wore sky blue shorts held up by a bronze belt, and he had a fierce face framed by short black hair.

Coeus, the Titan of Intellect, possessed an air of calm wisdom. He wore a short length of fabric on his shoulders, acting as both a cape and covering for his chest while leaving his abdomen exposed to the world. He wore a white and silver toga around his waist to cover his groin and the upper parts of his legs. His keen mind was always searching for solutions, even ones his brother did not admit or recognize.

Each brother sat or stood in the cave, quiet at first.

Hyperion, having called the meeting, spoke up with concern. The look of uncertain concern was painted on his face even before a single word came from his mouth.

"Brothers, I know my calling you together like this, in secrecy, might have bothered you all," he started. He looked from brother to brother with an understanding manner.

He was the Bright Titan for a reason. After the defeat of their father, it was Hyperion who decided to start exploring other lands. To know the tales of other deities, other lands, other people, and their lives helped inform him of how best to help better Olympus.

Brightness does not only mean fire but intelligence as well for him, and so Hyperion felt he must expand all of his horizons.

"Don't you want to wait for Iapetus?" Oceanus asked.

He motioned to an empty space that their last brother might fill. While none of the brothers were particularly close to Iapetus, he was still one of their number and deserved to be part of the conversation.

"He wanders off wherever he wants to contemplate matters that are not problems," Crius gruffly spat out.

Coeus raised an eyebrow to that summation of their kin but said nothing.

"If I might continue?" Hyperion asked.

He was not upset; far from it, in fact. However, there were great matters to discuss, and the absence of one brother did not make or break this discussion.

Crius nodded for him to speak, Ocean shrugged, and Coeus made a motion with his hand for him to go on.

"I fear Cronos is descending into madness," Hyperion went on. "His actions have grown increasingly erratic." He raised his hands to make sure his brothers understood that he was not adversarial to Cronos without cause. "I know Father needed to be defeated. You know I will never question our actions on that score, but devouring a child, no matter who the father was, is deranged."

He shook his head at the very thought of eating a child. To make a child with his wife was one of the greatest pleasures in Hyperion's life. Never in his existence would he think to hurt Theia by consuming a child that she carried in her womb. Thoughts of his wife reminded him of another crime of his brother-king.

"I believe he has Rhea imprisoned on Olympus as well," Hyperion finished.

Oceanus nodded solemnly in agreement. He had been there, like all the others, to battle Ouranos. Father Sky had been an impossible foe, and until recently, Oceanus had not regretted standing shoulder to shoulder with his brothers.

"I agree. I think the darkness that had a hold on Ouranos is clouding Cronos' once noble heart. I know for a fact that he has turned away Gaia when she wanted an audience with him. I fear the only thing that he might listen to is violence," Oceanus said, frustrated.

He did not stand or punch a wall. He seemed deflated by all that he wanted to say and do. In the end, he just exhaled.

"One thing I do know is that we can't go from king to king this way."

Despite being a recluse, Oceanus was revealing his authentic concern for his brother. After all, he had been raised by Gaia with his brothers. There was a time when all they had was each other. He would not be so quick to throw that way regardless of the charges brought against Cronos.

"Do you fear that by voicing our disapproval of his actions that Cronos will meet us with violence?" Coeus asked empirically.

He was not like his brothers who gave into the shiny baubles of creation or their inferior emotions. His logical mind was one that made logical connections, and therefore, it was entirely capable of cutting straight to the core of the concerns of his brethren.

At his query, none of the brothers had an answer. When the intelligent one was asking a question, the others understood that meant there was no simple response. The silence that set in was more uncomfortable than any remark might have been.

Crius stood in defiance of their complaints. For him, life was not ruled by logic and reason. Experience, in a life lived, ruled his judgment. He was loyal to those who were loyal to him, and he was vengeful to those who wronged him. While not as analytical as his brother, there was passion in his arguments. Those words, for him, were based in simpler, more grounded life and not the more well-thought out thinking of Coeus.

"Let us not forget that it was Cronos who freed us from the tyranny of our father," Crius bellowed, impassioned. "Ouranos raped Rhea, betrayed our mother, and tried to break me!"

Crius made his exclamation while lifting up his scarred hands and arms. The golden red ichor scintillated in the scars that laced his strong appendages. He was the one brother who needed no reminder of the damage a Primordial could wrought. That was the wisdom he could impart onto a brother who would lean so much on his idealized intellect.

For Coeus, every problem could be solved in a sterilized manner while Crius knew the truth of life. It was a messy, painful affair that required one to make decisions and stand by them even in the hardest of times.

"We owe him our gratitude for liberating us from oppressive rule," Crius finished, pulling his arms down.

Though he stopped speaking, his displeased temper lingered in the air. None of the Titans could begrudge him for his feelings. He had, after all, suffered more than most of them, and as a mark of that suffering, lost the chance to lead them.

Coeus swiftly replied, knowing a fight could break out if Crius was not calmed. While Crius was likely the weakest of the Titans after his mangled injury, Coeus did not want conflict, nor did he want Crius to throw his life away in a show of loyalty to a brother who might not appreciate what he did.

"I understand your allegiance to Cronos, Brother," Coeus said respectfully to Crius. He lifted his hands in an act of placating Crius' temper. "I do not deny that Ouranos was problematic. His evil would have spread to affect us all. We were right to fight him and remove him from power. Cronos was right to remove his head."

Coeus made a motion to his brother as if to ask permission to continue. Crius accepted the concession that Coeus had offered.

Understanding that progress was made between them, Coeus was careful in continuation.

"However..." he said slowly, lifting both hands to ask Crius not to snap at him. "Just because he was right in one aspect of life does not make him infallible, Crius. One right does not equate to perfection. He can do wrong, as we all can."

Crius rolled his eyes at his brother's assessment but did not try to fight the words spoken. Hyperion nodded in agreement of Coeus' words and grateful that conflict was avoided.

Oceanus scoffed at the 'intellect' their brother offered. Surely, the Intelligent Titan could come up with his own ideas rather than stealing from Oceanus.

"Regardless of his actions," Coeus went on, "allow me to offer a different path for us."

"Why?" Oceanus asked. A weak suspicion coated his words. "Not to be rude, but if Cronos becomes like Father, doesn't that mean we deposed one evil king only to place another on the throne?"

There was a pause in the room. Maybe there were flecks of mistrust from Oceanus, but for Coeus, a healthy dose of irritation infected his gaze. That was a rarity among the siblings given how level-headed Coeus usually was.

"Might I continue?" Coeus asked.

There was not threat in his voice, but with emotions running high for the inexpressive Titan, perhaps a fight would break out. Conflict was why the Titanic children of Gaia and Ouranos went separate ways after they were old enough to take care of their own domains.

They had fought too much as children, and there had been damage to whatever area they had been in. If the destruction they had produced could destroy a valley when they were young, battles between grown Titans could very well destroy the lands of Greece.

"Fine, fine," Oceanus remarked with flippant disregard.

"Thank you," Coeus replied with a grateful inclination of his head to Oceanus.

He made sure that his watery brethren understood that he was being genuine and not simply trying to silence him.

"In light of Cronos' more erratic actions," he went on. "I believe we should wait, and place our individual focus on our Realms and duties. We can preserve the beauty our mother has cultivated for us. With time, Cronos' anger will subside and he will see events more rationally."

He looked left and right to gauge his brothers' opinions of his proposal. They did not seem upset or altogether against him.

"We should trust Cronos will overcome whatever other inner struggles he has, and if we are lucky, we can speak to him about his less exalted behavior."

"Beauty?" Hyperion asked, suspicious. He stared at Coeus and squinted as if to inspect the smallest alterations in his brother's makeup. "Who are you? What have you done with our brother?"

Crius rolled his eyes at the exchange. Oceanus let out a hearty laugh.

"It is sensical to be loyal to our mother as she did give birth to us," Coeus remarked clinically. "While I do not personally care for the beauty or any shallow appearance of this land, our mother does. We owe her to do our best in light of Cronos' recent disrespect."

Hyperion's eyes bounced from brother to brother. He could not deny that Coeus was making sense, as per usual, but he was torn between trusting in Coeus' intelligent judgment and his uncertainty over Cronos' behavior. Cronos' disrespect of their mother needed to be answered. More than that, mistreating Rhea after they challenged Ouranos over her honor felt like a slap to Hyperion's face.

"Coeus, you might be right," Hyperion conceded with an exhaled breath. "I could be overreacting. But can we ignore Cronos' actions?"

Coeus saw Hyperion's worry and Oceanus' apprehension. Rhetorical arguments would not close the gap in the long term. He might win the day with them, but he would need changed actions from Cronos in order to truly pacify his brothers.

He raised his hands in supplication to Hyperion. Coeus knew that Hyperion was the most influential of the six Titans. Had events gone differently, Hyperion might have ruled them all.

"Patience is not the same as ignoring, Brother," Coeus said with a shake of his head. "We will wait and watch, like I said. If his poor behavior persists, I will talk to him personally. He has never been so cruel as to dismiss my counsel."

Hyperion nodded in deference to his brother's reasoning.

While Hyperion was not entirely content with the solution, Coeus was offering something that did not lead to another fight in their family.

Conflict might lead to another death, and after seeing what killing Ouranos did to Cronos, none of the brothers were wanting to take another life, lose their life, or see the effects of ending a life might have on another brother.

Crius nodded in regard to Coeus' suggestion, but since he was rubbing his forearms, it was clear he was more focused on the lingering pain than any resolution that Coeus came up with.

Oceanus shook his head. He was entirely unconvinced of the wisdom in waiting. After all, if Cronos could slay their father and consume his own child, they were heading down a path none of them could predict or prepare for. This was unknown territory, and on its own merits, that was a terrifying reality for him.

**********

No matter how much time passed, Rhea could not repair the damage that had been inflicted upon her soul. Her heart was shattered from Cronos eating Aether. She no longer sought out company, as all she could do was mourn her son's demise.

The simplest truth was that the loss of Aether devastated her, not only that he was the last remnant of her father and lover, but Aether had been her firstborn. She had carried him in her belly, felt him grow, and went through the rigors of pushing him out of her body. Seeing her darling child sleep had been a peace that she had not felt since the loss of Ouranos.

And Cronos had taken them both away from her!

Rhea screamed impotently at the walls of her palace, expelling her rage at the powerlessness of her predicament, but in the end, that was the problem. She was powerless, and unable to harm Cronos in any meaningful way.

Her husband was aware of that, too. He did not need to use his physical might (or even his magic) to confine her to the grand mountain. He could exercise his will over her as king, so much so that when she finally felt well enough to travel, Rhea did not question that Cronos barred her from leaving the mountain other than to see Gaia.

**********

After the slaying of Ouranos, Gaia no longer called Olympus her home. She had not been dismissed by Cronos directly.

Since catching her husband in bed with their daughter, the divine mountain city was a weapon that could harm Gaia. Rather than allow her partial creation to harm her any longer, Gaia thought it was best to make a home of her own essence and made for the sole purpose of separating her from the Realm.

Gaia resided on her island in the southern western sea, within the lands of Greece. On this island, there was a secluded grove adorned with lush foliage for Gaia to entertain the few guests that she received. Though, she thought sadly, after the fall of Ouranos, her children scarcely visited.

Perhaps it was because seeing Gaia reminded her children of their despot of a father. Maybe the distance existed because they were ashamed of listening to her during the crisis with Ouranos. After all, her children had needed to depose her kingly husbands. It had been necessary, but that necessity might have created a distance between her offspring and Gaia.

She could lose her sanity wondering why they did not visit.

The answer could be as simple as children drifted away from their parents in adulthood. How in Tartarus could she know?

For Gaia, familial relationships were entirely new. She almost laughed as she was there at the dawn of creation. Family was new to all beings. The Primordials were not exactly close after Chaos had crowned Ouranos to be their ruler.

Because of this solitude, Gaia lit up when Rhea arrived on the island unexpectedly one day.

Rhea was simply grateful for the escape from Cronos and his madness.

But where life gave one solution, it presented another problem. Rhea could open up about what Cronos was doing to her mother, but Rhea could never tell Gaia about her feelings for Ouranos, as acknowledging an affair between Ouranos and Rhea would create a schism between Gaia and herself.

However, that shared mistreatment by prideful husbands was enough to bring the two closer. Beyond all of the complications of life, Gaia comforted Rhea for a single, fundamental simple truth: Rhea was her daughter.

When a child was being harmed by another, it only made a mother want to help their offspring all the more regardless of the circumstances.

Gaia listened to Rhea's inner turmoil, having welcomed her daughter to her island with open arms. They sat in the shade of the trees that had been made by the Earth Primordial. In the years to come, they would be known as trees made near the dawn of time, but on this day, they were simple and unadorned.

"Gaia," Rhea began with a slow trembling in her voice. "I will not survive on Olympus, alone with Cronos." Rhea shook her head in muted frustration. "Since devouring Aether, all he talks about is how he will not be overthrown like Ouranos."

Gaia heard the distress in her daughter's voice. Momentarily, the Primordial Queen struggled with what to say to Rhea. She understood the prophecies that hung over Cronos' head.

Her two children bore greatness on their shoulders, but that did not give Cronos the right to make Rhea live in fear.

"I don't want to agree," Gaia lamented. "But... I can't..."

She struggled to speak. Gaia worried that by being honest she would be condemning her son for doing what he believed to be right. That did not change her feelings on Cronos' recent behavior. Consuming Aether was wrong, ignoring Gaia was wrong, and abandoning his siblings to Tartarus was horrendously mistaken.

"I never thought my little boy would turn his back on his kin, but to hear him talk about the Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires..."

She found herself struggling just as much as her daughter to speak. There were many denunciations she might make of her king of a son, but she could not release them because she knew words and deeds released in anger had enduring consequences. She only needed to look at what happened when she assisted her Titan children to battle Ouranos for evidence.

"But all that mattered to Cronos, when we talked, was preserving his power on Olympus."

When Gaia saw that her words were not what Rhea had expected, the Earth Primordial placed a comforting hand on Queen Titaness' hand.

"My daughter, I know. I do know that you are suffering unfairly," Gaia said with comfort sewn into every word. Rhea could sense her mother's authentic affection, and laid her head on her mother's shoulder. "I am almost sorry for ever having helped Cronos defeat Ouranos."

Rhea looked up at her mother. Shock found its way to her eyes when she heard the declaration. While she had heard that Gaia had assisted the Titan brothers in taking down Ouranos, to hear it from her mother felt like a betrayal. However, Rhea could not voice her feelings because she would lose her mother's sympathy.

"Ouranos had hurt me," Gaia continued through restrained anger. "He was not perfect. I know he hurt you and Cronos, but Cronos is descending into darker depths than my fallen husband."

Rhea could only continue to stare at her mother. The Titan Queen held back her words for her mother. Part of her wanted to scream how this was Gaia's fault. Another part of her believed that Gaia would rectify the mistake of assisting Cronos in his ascent to power. Silently, Rhea optimistically held out that some profound wisdom would be dispensed from the Primordial.

"Our only hope lies with you," Gaia definitively said.

Whatever Rhea had expected Gaia to say, those words were not the anticipated response.

"With me?" Rhea wondered.

Her mind tried to make sense of something that felt entirely out of the realm of possibility.

"How?" Rhea asked.

"As I understand it from the Fates," Gaia recalled carefully. "Cronos will be displaced by one of your children. I believe they said it would be the most deserving offspring."

"The most deserving?" Rhea asked.

That made no sense to her. How was that quantified? Who decided who was the most deserving? A prophecy like that was so vague that it could be interpreted a thousand different ways. Without elucidation, it was all guesswork, meaning that all of those deductions could be correct or just as likely to be wrong.

Gaia was careful in her reply. That alone made Rhea understand that her mother was inferring.

"If I chose Cronos to defeat Ouranos," Gaia supplied slowly, "it would make sense that you would choose the son that overcomes Cronos."

Gaia gave Rhea a supportive look as if to say, This may be a guess, but I trust you to choose well.

Rhea did not fully understand what it meant for her to choose, but Cronos' cruelty made Rhea reach for whatever possibilities were available to her. The problem she ran into is that without comprehension, how could she ever be able to end Cronos' abuse?

"But which son, Gaia? Cronos ate Aether and the child in my belly could be a girl."

Gaia's gaze was one of soft kindness. Maternal affection would win out over all other emotions for her. What she was saying was guesswork at best, but she knew that her daughter was looking to her for guidance, to give Rhea nothing would be abandoning the girl to an eternal pit of sorrow that she would never escape.

"Rhea, I don't have all the answers. I think that is for you to discover in time," Gaia went on sagely. "Maybe this child will be a girl. Maybe it will be a boy. I can't promise the path ahead will be without problem, but I can promise that I will be by your side to help you."

While it was not exactly what Rhea wanted to hear, the words were a balm on the emotional wounds inflicted by Cronos.

"What should I do?"

"For now, you wait, but, in the end, you will have to choose if you want to take this course. If you see what I already do, you will have to choose a son, in the future, to do to Cronos what Cronos did to Ouranos."

Their hands tightened in solidarity. Rhea looked into her mother's eyes and nodded to seal the silent oath.

**********

Chapter 4: Seeds of Creation

"Do it for your people, do it for your pride"

— The Script, Hall of Fame (2012), written by Danny O'Donoghue, Mark Sheehan, and Will. i. am, © 2012 Sony/ATV Music Publishing and Universal Music Publishing Group.

For all the planning that Rhea and Gaia shared, they found patience difficult to practice. Waiting is easy when you know what you're waiting for, but Rhea was waiting for the unknown. Every day that this baby grew in her belly, the Titan Queen could not help but be restless.

Day after day, this sentiment grew. The feelings might have burst from Rhea like a raging inferno if not for the day when the pains struck. The carrying of Aether had been easy in comparison.

The birth of the ruling couple's first trueborn child was both proving difficult and one that would be remembered in the annals of the grand halls of Mount Olympus. Anticipation mounted within the Titan Sisters of Tethys and Theia. They were acting as midwives in place of Gaia. While they could not know the complicated relationships between the Titan King and Queen and the Primordial Queen, they could sense the fearful undertone emanating from Rhea.

Rhea could not know what she was radiating because her focus was on the different battle of birth. Her thoughts were also divided, which did not help her focus on the task at hand. From Cronos' mistreatment of her to the prophecy that Gaia, Rhea could see a solution to her imprisonment, but even one thought would plunge into an accumulating expansion of lesser thoughts.

What if she had a girl? That would not do for her plans with Gaia. But a boy? This soon? She was not ready to try and harm Cronos.

Her mind raced back and forth at what might happen, what she should do if this or that happened, and of course, wondering if Gaia were wrong about prophecies and destiny.

This led back to the fearful quandary of what he might do if she delivered a girl.

By the end of her thinking, with all the sentiments and expectations running through her mind, the excruciating spasms of labor robbed the Titan Queen of all rationale. Rhea appealed to Chaos that she would not deliver a boy. If any being could help Rhea both through the endeavor and to give her the outcome she wanted, it would be the Great Progenitor.

She knew in her heart that she wanted vengeance for what had happened to Ouranos and Aether, but with the landscape of Olympus as it was, she was keenly aware that she was not ready to enact her retribution against the Titan King.

Cronos stood nearby as he had with Aether. He seemed entirely unaware of his wife's internal struggle, but even if he had, Rhea firmly believed that he would not care.

Regardless of his intentions or affections for his wife, he never took his eyes off of Rhea. She could be screaming and sweaty in her task of birthing his child, but it mattered little to him. Agony was painted on her face, and he could not find sympathy for her within himself.

To understand what her husband was thinking would not be high on Rhea's list of priorities, so it would be even less important to Cronos.

For Cronos, there was an indifference as to what Rhea thought of him. All that mattered was the simple path ahead. His thoughts were on the sex of the child that was coming into existence. If the baby was male, it was clear that he would need to act as he had with Aether. If the child was a girl, he did not feel threatened. After all, the prophecy spoke of a son taking what was his, not a daughter.

In the case of a girl, he could breathe easier by doing nothing. He was sure that Rhea would be happy for the company on Olympus.

He had been isolating her since he had heard the prophecy. She would be too dangerous to keep company with the other Titanesses. If Rhea poisoned any of his brothers against him, Cronos believed that it would make it that much easier for Rhea to birth a son who could overthrow him with the help of his Titan brethren.

He knew the prophecy did not speak of losing his throne to a brother, but he could not take the chance that the Fates were wrong, or that Rhea would help bring his future to fruition by manipulating their siblings. He had to remove the possibilities from taking away that which he had earned.

Rhea clenched her fists from her body being racked in pain. Another conflicted but determined cry escaped her lips. With each contraction, she drew strength from the primally instinctive forces within her; she would not die or be harmed by giving birth. There was too much to be done, and she could not be reunited with Ouranos in the land of the dead until those things were completed.

Every pain from her laborious pushes of birth brought her closer to Cronos' removal from power, regardless of the sex of the baby. That was all she needed. Nothing else mattered. When the moment of his deposition arrived, then she could consider other possibilities, such as dying.

Hardening herself away from the pain, Rhea delivered her precious daughter into the world. She lay there, perspiring, spent, and struggling to find her breath when Theia handed her the baby girl, wrapped up in her blanket. Rhea got her breathing under control before looking towards Cronos.

Cronos would not even look at his wife in those moments. He turned away from the mess she was. Sweat coated her face and chest. Her hair was in disarray from writhing and thrashing in pain.

While he did not look upon his wife, his focus honed in on the baby being born. To be sure of the details of the child was not important. Only the gender mattered for his future. He observed that his child was a daughter and not a son.

He breathed a sigh of relief. What did the Fates know? He did not need to restrain himself from taking his wife to bed. She was his to have. No one could prevent that. The daughters of Nyx were as arrogantly fallible as anyone.

That confirmation was worth more than any crown on his head because it brought him peace. With the tranquility bathing his spirit, the Titan King left Rhea and the infant in the care of his Titanic sisters.

The soft cries of the newborn baby girl flushed the room with noise. When Rhea's heart should have swelled with love, she barely looked at her own daughter. This female offspring was meant to be celebrated for coming into existence. After all, the Titans understood how fleeting life could be when it was snatched away.

However, for all of the joy she should have had in the babe's existence, Rhea was only capable of focusing on the unseen. Her gaze would appear to be looking at nothing, but she knew that she was regarding a future she was wishing for.

There were no thoughts of family or home. This child was just one more piece to some grand puzzle for the destiny of all of Olympus. When Rhea glanced at her daughter, she was all too aware that she was both important and insignificant. She would play a part, but this would be the first child of a numerous quantity that she might have,

These children would be her warriors. They would be her protectors and liberators. This was the army that could undo Cronos. She was not sure how, but this was the start.

The name 'Hestia' left from Rhea's lips as if given to her mind by the Great Progenitor.

This baby and her siblings would exist only to further her plans.

Rhea looked down at Hestia as the baby grasped Rhea's thumb with her tiny fingers. Rhea smiled and kissed her. Theia's and Tethys smiled with joy.

They had happiness in the happiness they witnessed. Little did they know how hollow the façade was.

Rhea would find happiness one day; she knew that much of her existence, but until that day, she knew she would need to be the doting mother and wife to the lands of Greece. In her heart, she would only exist with her single goal in mind.

**********

From the ground, where there were trees and streams that stood and flowed, to the sky, which had a golden light burning in the heavens set within a beautifully blue canvas, there were many wonders to the land of Greece.

If there was one Titan who appreciated every facet and feature of the lands of Greece, it was Iapetus. He was a strange one by the standards of his brothers. In a way, he felt that the only true quality that separated him from his siblings was he was more introspective than them. It was not just about himself. Iapetus wondered about the light in the sky, Chaos' creation of the Primordials, how they were meant to interact with one another, and about his place in Greece.

Iapetus cherished the creations of the Progenitor, but also, he enjoyed the contributions that his siblings made to existence. While his Titanic siblings looked upon the world and found one interest or another to preoccupy their time, Iapetus was not so limited. Life was amazing, and he would not apologize for his fascination over the entirety of conscious reality.

However, this sort of thinking made him a pariah among his family. His brothers found him wondering about his existence to be depressing, which it could be. With the discovery of death, the idea of mortality to eternally living creatures was a phenomenon worth considering.

This kind of philosophy was why when the others got together he was scarcely invited. His company made them feel uncomfortable. He knew that much of it. That was why when Iapetus was invited by Hyperion to a meeting about Cronos, Iapetus had decided to stay away. While he was certain that Hyperion would want him there, Iapetus felt he would only bother his other brothers with his presence, so he stayed away.

When he thought of the company of his brothers, their distinctive natures came to the mind of the Titan of Mortality.

Oceanus loved the water (from the lakes, rivers and streams). Crius was obsessed with the stars in Nyx's night sky. Coeus was always trying to figure out how the world worked rather than just cherishing what was. Hyperion loved light and fire. Well, that was not entirely true. Hyperion also enjoyed his travels as well as his wife: Theia.

For Iapetus, sitting on a cliffside in solitude, as he was, could bring him just as much joy as feeling the breeze on his skin.

His mind was always in motion like Coeus' but not so intellectual that he lost the sentiment of creation. He could see that light would illuminate to be sure, but for him, and likely also Hyperion, it brought warmth. However, where he differed from his brothers was that he enjoyed the simplicity of light being wonderful.

The blue sky of their dead father was fascinating to him in that long after its maker in Ouranos was gone from life, it persevered. The blades of grass came from the earthy soil of his mother, and each microminiature saber of greenery was unique in how they grew when Iapetus observed it.

When he thought of the multitudes of all that existed, Iapetus marveled at the creation of his parents as well as the Primordials and the greatest of all, Chaos.

But then, when his thoughts ran out of things to be amazed by, he recognized that his solitude was not voluntary. He was always inexplicably alone.

He had tried to be more approachable to his brothers, but he never quite fit in with them. They were just different. He cherished the differences of someone like Ceous to Hyperion to himself. Those diverging contrasts were what made each of the Titan siblings distinct. He was not Cronos no more than Crius was Coeus. When he voiced his celebration of those heterogeneities, he only succeeded in upsetting his brethren rather than growing closer to them.

He hoped to find love with one of his siblings, like Mnemosyne or Themis, but they never expressed any interest in him. Before too long, he had to accept that romance with one of his sisters was not his destiny.

Instead, as his siblings found love in one another, and interest in their domains, Iapetus sat alone on the cliff, pondering life, creation, and the peculiar nature deviations that made everything unique.

He exhaled deeply in those thoughts. His very existence felt sadly hollow, and he dared not voice his thoughts on such a subject without causing himself to wallow into a depression. There was nothing to be done though.

His life was what it was, by Iapetus' estimation.

Returning to his thoughts on life as a whole, instead of shunned and isolated existence, he wondered about their father and the blades of grass and the child Ouranos had consumed. The veil between life and death seemed thinner than every Titan realized when Cronos slew their father.

At first, the consensus, how Iapetus understood the matter, it was believed that a great weapon or powerful might would need to be brought down upon any of the divinities in order for them to kill one another, but that Cronos could just consume a child, and that blades of grass died in excessive heat or not enough rain, Iapetus began to believe that death could come for any being with the right motivation.

For his mind, he worked out that Chaos had made existence with many possibilities. Iapetus understood that Titans were not as fragile as greenery, but they also were not Primordials or even greater still, the Progenitor. Life was a gift and could be taken away.

After the demise of Ouranos, Iapetus wondered if all of the divinities were meant to live and die. With Cronos' more erratic actions as of late, he was starting to ask himself more questions.

But there was one query that was atop the list of his curiosity. What was the point of life if it ended?

This always led to another question, such as: If their lives were fleeting, what was the purpose of such impermanent joy?

Shaking his head, he could not help but find despair in all of his questioning. Not because he disliked his own inquisitive nature but because without a solution, he could only pick as the question over and over again. There was no satisfying conclusion for him

Rather than look at the waters beneath the cliffs he sat on, he turned his head up to stare at Hyperion's Great Flame that rested in the sky during the day. When the Flame came back down from the sky, then that was night.

There had been a lot of darkness in the living realm since the creation. The only true lights shone from the divinities when they walked the living realm. As such, Hyperion, with the blessing and some power from Chaos, made a ball of fire and planted it in the sky. Up close, the fire burned with a thin ethereal light.

Iapetus had reached out his hand to touch the light from his curiosity, but thankfully, Hyperion had stopped Iapetus. Hyperion, before putting the fire in the sky, explained that the Flame on Olympus would consume ALL things it touched unless precautions were taken.

Considering what stories Hyperion had from other lands, it made sense that he could create such an amazing innovation as a ball of fire to light the sky. Iapetus recalled Hyperion's last story of a land called India, where the divine beings there battled relentlessly for supremacy. The Indian divinities believed it was necessary to do battle to establish a hierarchy of power.

Iapetus shook his head, glad not to be so barbaric and foolish. Regardless of his loneliness or even sorrow, he would never sink so low as to kill other beings to prove his importance. That was when his mind circled back to his loneliness. Seeing all that there was to the creation of the Great Progenitor, he shrugged. He was by himself, but the world was absolutely amazing. While he did not have his heart's desire of partnership, everything in life was actually rather sublime.

**********

She was the dark of Night, but in this world of the Progenitor's existence, this was a blackness deeper than any Nyx might have conjured.

The Realm of Chaos stretched infinitely in all directions unlike the Underworld. Greece, Olympus, and the Underworld all seemed to have limitations, but in the home of her parent, Nyx wondered if there were any constraints. Jagged spires of black and white stone twisted skyward as veins of golden light pulsed in the tapestry of the celestial firmament.

The air was both thick and thin as well as cold and warm but somehow never hot. Iridescent colors bled through the blackness in shapes that could not exist in the lands of Greece. It all flickered and dissolved along the periphery of sight. It all shifted in line with a logic only Chaos might fathom.

Nyx wore a dress of dripping black night that had diamond starlight dotted throughout its design. A necklace of liquid darkness decorated her throat. Her pale skin seemed to against the starlight caught in the folds of her gown.

In the Realm of her own, she might have expelled an aura that could convince any that she had a right to rule, yet before her creator, she seemed mute by comparison. That never bothered the Primordial.

She was born from the greatest being that she had ever come to know. There was an honor in that distinction for her that could give her peace even when life could not.

Her eyes found Chaos. Their form was vast and unfixed like a silhouette against the pulsing dark. Thin streaks of color and light warping and breaking across their frame even as it gave off a masculine and feminine sort of force that Nyx could not yet quantify.

Their face was not quite a face but rather a suggestion of one. The outlines of deep, colorless eyes, a mouth drawn not from flesh but from the idea of speech, and a bridge of a nose without nostrils.

"Once more, you have seen fit to grace me with your presence, my Daughter."

Chaos' voice drifted through the void in a way that made Nyx's spine shiver. The cadence and volume was neither loud nor soft. The noise simply existed; however, it had a haunting quality that reminded Nyx of their differences.

Nyx was somewhere between four to five feet aware from the Progenitor. Her dark eyes locked onto her parent with a piercing keenness.

"I have," she said with a nod. "I am sure you know why."

Chaos focused on nothing when they replied. Their form was pulsing around the imagery of being finite when it was clear that they were not. The semblance of eyes did not focus on Nyx. It appeared their gaze was for the void.

"I am," they said

Nyx's lips curled into something that was not a smile. "Then you know what I'm going to ask."

There was no response from the Progenitor. Other beings might not have understood this communication style from Chaos, but Nyx was the one living child that spent the most time with their sire. This led to Nyx having an understanding that led to having knowledge others did not. Some of it was guesswork and others was paying close attention to the most minute changes in the one who begot her.

This silence led to a frustration for the Night Primordial. She gritted her teeth and tightened her jaw.

"You and I both know that Ouranos has been dead for some time, and he now roams in my Realm of the Underworld," Nyx said. She looked from her parent and then back to the place that she had come. "Cronos has been raised up to be the new ruler of Olympus."

Chaos inclined their head in acknowledgement of what their child had said.

"As it was meant to be," Chaos remarked. Their interest was barely present in the reply.

Nyx's eyes flashed with angry starlight. "Meant to be?"

While Chaos held a consistent, if not mild, disinterest of all things, they turned their peering contemplation over to their Primordial spawn.

"I sensed the disturbance through the fabric of existence if this suits you better, Daughter," Chaos said.

Their words echoed through Nyx's ears and mind. This allowed her to analyze the dialogue twice over. While the counter from Chaos had the overtone of power and indifference, Nyx could also identify an undercurrent of displeased irritation. She understood that their parent had the might to remove her from creation just as easily as Chaos had spawned Nyx. That made confrontation over any detail difficult.

"I understand the progeny of Gaia and Ouranos have chosen to end their father's reign," Chaos went on. "I am not unaware of existence."

Nyx's voice sharpened with her ire but tempered by empathy.

"Ouranos was your son through Gaia," Nyx said. "His fall has broken the natural order you helped cultivate."

"Natural order?" Chaos regarded impassively. "What was broken?"

Nyx's breath hitched in response.

"Perhaps, the weight of existence demanded this eventuality, my Primordial of Night," Chaos said.

The formality was not lost on Nyx, and she grimaced in a cold loathing at hearing their creator speak so distantly about her.

"That is not an answer," Nyx struggled out. She shook her head in confusion. "This cannot be right!"

Nyx was not especially fond of or close to Ouranos. Nevertheless, his death meant an ending of life, which was new to the lands. That could not be how Chaos had meant for things to go, could it?

"That life unfolds how creation wants is the correct response," Chaos mused.

"Did you know?" Nyx asked.

"I have seen patterns since before the dawn of this creation," Chaos answered truthfully. They removed their observation from Nyx and returned it to the harmonious disorder of their Realm. "That the pattern unfolds to its nature is what shall have my concern. Your displeasure is insignificant to me."

Nyx's hands balled into fists at her sides. She could not fight her creator. That would do her no good. Chaos was the only being Nyx trusted to come to for guidance. At worst, Chaos would destroy Nyx; at best, Chaos could punish Nyx with banishment from returning to the Realm of Chaos. Both answers were insufficient for Nyx, so she did what she had to and moved the discussion to another subject even as the shadows at her feet coiled and twisted to mirror her frustration.

"What of Eros? Is his absence part of your inevitable pattern too?" Nyx asked. Challenge drenched her voice even if she had not meant it to.

Chaos' form scintillated, blinking between bodies of solid and liquid in a miasma-like shape until it settled on a body of whitish gray. Forms of faces were trying to push out of their body. If Nyx was not mistaken, some of the heads seemed to appear to be lesser versions of her Primordial siblings.

"That matter concerns only myself and Eros," Chaos replied, unmoved.

Nyx stepped forward. For some reason Nyx could not readily quantify, this answer was entirely insufficient. It was entirely possible that because of Chaos' disinterest towards Ouranos, apathy at Nyx, and vagaries about Eros, it was all compounding to change Nyx from a loving and dutiful daughter into an entitled Primordial.

Well, Nyx knew what entitlement had rewarded Ouranos. Nevertheless, she spoke her mind.

"Where is he?"

Chaos' eyes glittered faintly in a reflection of the secret of and with their missing offspring.

"He is learning," Chaos replied honestly. When they saw the impatience in Nyx's glaring face, Chaos surrendered to parental affection and said more. "He learns to walk a path of four instead of one. He understands that his mistake has led to turmoil for the lands and will return when he is prepared to face the complexities of existence, but not a moment before."

"He goes missing around the birth of the Titans, and you tell me that he is off learning?" Nyx asked. She was losing the battle to her irritation at her life-giver. "That is not good enough!"

Chaos did not answer her. Instead, there was a boredom in their features that Nyx recognized as the whole body turned away from the Night Primordial.

"I want to see him." Nyx's voice broke. She was barely holding on.

Everything about her life seemed to be unraveling or altogether out of her control. Two of her brothers had become one with the Underworld, one had been slain, and another was missing completely, and she was to ... what? Trust in Chaos' idiotic outline for existence? That would not do.

"If you refuse to answer me, at least allow me to speak with him," Nyx pleaded.

"No."

The answer was as cold as it was succinct. If Nyx had been dropped in the deepest, coldest part of Tartarus without her divine powers to protect her, she would have found more warmth in that distant continuance than she did at that moment in the presence of her parent.

Nyx's darkness surged around her body.

"Then... I am to just wait? Is that what you expect?" Nyx asked, almost demanding an answer.

"Expectation is entirely irrelevant," Chaos replied. "What is to happen will reveal itself as it is the nature of creation to do so."

Whatever reply Nyx had expected after such cryptic behavior from the Progenitor, this was not it. Her shadows lost whatever life they had in her temper and deflated back to lifeless darkness.

"You could stop this," Nyx said. This was the only invitation Chaos would need to give Nyx a future she understood.

"Yes. I could," Chaos said in a way that Nyx interpreted to be unfeeling.

"Then why don't you?" Nyx asked, reaching up to the creator.

Chaos' voice grew quiet. There was a stillness in it that told Nyx not to move or else everything from the Realm to the magic in her veins to even the Underworld itself would break apart.

"Because my creation would come to resent me for prolonged interference," Chaos answered. There was an edge of sadness to their voice that Nyx could not mistake. "Were I to shape all of existence with my hand, your kin and their offspring would soon loathe me for my actions. They desire their control, so they are gifted with the struggles to rise and to fall. If they suffer or their lives come to an end, it is their right to do as they see fit."

Nyx's mouth twisted from a grimace until it simply fell agape.

"That is... ab-so-lute-ly... madness," she said, aghast.

"Perhaps."

Chaos' form flickered as their solid state seemed to bore them. They bounded between a light and shadow figure as a line of gold threaded through them.

"Or perhaps it allows your brethren to dictate their existence on their terms without resentment towards me for any perceived involvement."

"Where does that leave the rest of us?" Nyx's voice trembled with sudden vulnerability as she realized how distant of a figure her creator intended to be. "Where does that leave you and me?"

"You are left with an existence as it was created," Chaos said with bland regard. "Perhaps, it is time that you look beyond me, Daughter."

"You mean... for me to let you go?" Nyx asked.

A certain moisture seemed to get caught in her throat, almost choking her. Tears of liquid diamonds started to roll down the Primordial's cheeks.

"You might interact more with existence to learn from what you created," Chaos advised. While they did not directly answer their daughter, the child knew well enough. "Allow yourself to be taught that you are a being entirely separate from me."

"And if I don't comply?" Nyx asked.

The challenge returned to her voice. Her shadows mirrored their mistress' intentions. She could not destroy the Progenitor, but she would not be dismissed or ordered about like some other, lesser being.

Chaos raised one of their hands.

"Then you will remain as you are," Chaos mused. "Alone."

With the declaration in the air, the very atmosphere around Nyx twisted. Her shadows fractured in disobedience to her intentions. They bent inward as a wave of force buffeted Nyx. Before she could resist the overwhelming power of Chaos, she knew she was no longer in their presence.

She stumbled back to find herself in the Underworld. The doorway to Chaos was closing in front of her eyes, and Nyx could do nothing to stop it.

Nyx stood there for what might have been moments or days. She could not know in her daze. She did not know if she blinked, cried, or screamed. The denunciation of her parent was enough to break her.

Alone.

Her own parent professed that she would be alone. Such an utterance from the Progenitor could not be misunderstood by Nyx. She knew her creator better than anyone.

She did not feel her hand curled into a fist. She did not feel herself fall back to drift deeper into the Underworld. The dark felt colder than it ever had before, and yet she allowed it to wrap her up.

There was comfort in all she had known. It was the only way she might yet rebel against the sire who had sent her away, and yet, she had never before felt so powerlessly hollow.

**********

Nearly a year after Hestia's birth would pass before Rhea would see Gaia again. The other Titans had been procreating to bring new Titanic beings into the world. It was a more chaotic time than the downfall of Ouranos because no one knew what to expect next.

Rhea was no exception. On Olympus, she could only feel dread and uncertainty for what was to come. She found solace in the presence of Gaia. Maybe it was the peaceful nature of Rhea's mother that provided such peace, or it could have been because another year passing meant they were a year closer to being rid of Cronos.

Regardless of what was the source of her ease, Rhea's mind was preoccupied with the future.

"There is something I have been thinking about, Mother," Rhea said with mild concern.

The united goal of planning against Cronos seemed to have set the female divinities on more equal footing despite being separated by power and a single generation. Rhea started to see Gaia as her counterpart, not her parent.

"And that is?" Gaia asked.

She was genuinely curious as to what her daughter would say. The changes did bring them closer in Gaia's estimation because Gaia would always remain the mother of the Titans. That quality alone kept them apart. She was the Earth Primordial and a daughter to Chaos; to be distinguished from others was just how life was for her.

"If I keep having children, like Hestia, and should Cronos fall to my chosen son," Rhea said carefully. She was making sure that what she said made sense to her mother as it barely made any sense to her. "Won't we need a new queen to stand alongside the next Ruler?"

Gaia sat in contemplation. On her island, where the two were, it was easy for Gaia to ponder the complicated nature of their quest. It was her home and a part of her essence. If she would listen and truly hear her daughter, it would be here.

"Are you saying this queen will be Hestia or do you not believe Hestia should assume the role of Queen?"

When Rhea shook her head, Gaia sighed. For her daughter to think so little of her own offspring was disheartening for Gaia. No matter what struggle her children went through, Gaia believed in the Titans. This included both Rhea and Cronos. They could be the best version of themselves. In her heart, that is what she believed.

"Then," Gaia lamented, "I suppose, we must weigh our options, considering the other Titans are growing their families. One of them might have a daughter with the right potential to shape the world as we have."

Rhea shook her head at that suggestion. She had very nearly been a queen alongside Gaia with Ourano, and currently, she sat next to Cronos on the divine mountain. If she was not to be Queen on Olympus, she would not hand that position to one of her sibling's children.

"I had a different idea," Rhea answered

"Oh?" Gaia wondered. Raising a barky eyebrow, she could not hide the fact that her curiosity was piqued.

"I believe you said the Curse of Ouranos would affect the throne and its ruler, but for how long?" Rhea said, turning her statement into a question at the end.

"I don't know," Gaia admitted after a sigh. When there was a look of disbelief on Rhea's face, she went on. "Truly I do not."

Gaia stared at the sea thoughtfully. She knew that the lands of Greece were out there. The waters that surrounded seemed to swirl around before crashing against itself, much like the thoughts in Gaia's mind.

"I do not know," she admitted. "But I believe for a few rulers." Gaia looked at Rhea, seeing that her answer was not enough for her daughter. As such, she went on in the hopes of putting her daughter's worries to bed. "If I was forced to guess," she went on, "I would think three kings."

Rhea considered what her mother said with a contemplative mind. She considered her father's faults as well as the fabric of reality. From one event to another, she could see the cause and effect that led from Ouranos taking her to bed to the prophecy to Cronos' actions to the current predicament the two queens found themselves in.

"Do you think that if the Fates chose to harm three kings, they did so because Ouranos chose to harm the three of them?"

Rhea was trying to find a connection where there might be none. The Apophenia was frustrating to the Titaness Queen because while she wanted there to be meaning behind recent occurrences, she dreaded that it might be simple happenstance.

She very nearly pulled her hair out, but in the presence of her mother, Rhea wanted to be seen as a proportionate equivalent, to be different yet equal. She would never be a Primordial, but she was the ruler of the divine, including over Gaia.

Gaia nodded to her daughter's question.

"I would not put it past them," she replied. "Their wisdom seems to have a certain ... thinking ... behind it."

"If that is true," Rhea remarked carefully.

She made sure to consider her mother's words before replying. To be right was something Rhea enjoyed, but to look like a fool in front of Gaia was not something she would allow.

"Does it not also make sense that the downfall of these kings should come from the correct woman's line?" Rhea asked.

Gaia gave Rhea a scrupulous look to the question but slowly nodded her head in encouragement for her daughter to pursue her line of speculation.

"Then," Rhea went on, "whoever deposes Cronos should have a Queen prepared to do the same to him, or at the very least, be ready to bear a child who can take the throne for the rest of eternity."

"I believe that I can agree with that thought, Rhea," Gaia replied.

The Earth Primordial felt the breeze of wind touch her tree bark skin. There was some indescribable quality to the air that felt like an approval from Ouranos' creation. With the static charge in the air, Gaia could feel a storm was coming.

She felt the impending battle would be like before with Ouranos but on a greater scale. This would not be one being against six, nor would it be one king against a son. Her mind could not approximate how many would be involved. She worried all six of her Titan sons might get caught up in this approaching clash.

"But then, we would need to cultivate that child from birth," Gaia replied pragmatically.

Her daughter could not know of her intentions or of her need to prevent the spilling of ichor. Could Rhea even understand the magnitude of what they might be unleashing if they followed through with their intentions? Did Gaia?

"Cronos has no interest in his daughters," Rhea reacted quickly.

What Gaia could not recognize in her daughter was that there was fun for her in the planning for this particular future. A coordinated vengeance did wonders for Rhea's heart and mind. It provided a focus that sitting idle would never grant.

"We can identify the right qualities necessary for a Queen first," Rhea remarked. "Afterwards, you and I will mold those virtues into one of my daughters."

"Very well," Gaia nodded.

She thought of all that would be necessary to bring this strategy into existence. There were many moving pieces. There were Titan children to placate or pacify, so that they would not interfere with the plan. She recognized the powers she would need to imbue into the male heir they planned for while also ensuring the female heir was ready to be a proper princess and later queen. The Olympus they were making would need to be altogether different than the one that currently existed.

"For this to work," Gaia went on, "you have to understand that this could take centuries or millennia."

Rhea halted a scoff in her throat. Of course it would take that long. Did Gaia not realize how much thought that she had put into the task ahead? Was Gaia as committed as Rhea? She could not be. Gaia was the mother of Cronos, and a Primordial who did not experience life the same way a Titan did, in Rhea's estimation. Rhea would have to guide Gaia's influence in the right direction as she aligned herself with her mother.

"If it means peace from these foolish and destructive kings," Rhea said softly, thinking of only one failed ruler when she said the words. Her tone darkened. "It will be worth it."

**********

Try as she might, the words of her ascendent had rattled Nyx at her core. That was a deception the Primordial of Night told herself. It was not the many words spoken to her. It was the singular one at the end.

Alone.

Never had she anticipated that a single word could destroy her or make her feel so empty. It did not make her feel lonely, but it stole away any power over her own life.

One moment was strung together with the next for her causing existence to be excruciating. It was as if her predecessor's words created the prophecy she had heard.

Was that how it worked? Chaos said something, and it came to pass. Or was it Chaos was simply commenting, and Nyx was the one putting too much emphasis and power on it and was making it come to pass. Or was it possible that Nyx was overthinking?

All of those thoughts whirled in her mind, becoming a cyclone of writhing fear that might have paralyzed another, but through sheer will, Nyx did not allow this havoc to become visible on her person.

Nyx paced back and forth in the realm of the Underworld.

The multitude of feelings that she experienced would not undo her. In her experience, where there was a problem, there was a solution.

The Great Progenitor had hinted as much by advising Nyx to speak with her creations. However, Nyx's mind wondered if that was intelligent. After all, would listening to Chaos lead Nyx into becoming alone or would she be freed of that loneliness by taking heed of the Progenitor.

Just thinking on the matter was enough to make her scream in defiance of the fabric makeup of reality.

While seeing her daughters for guidance was not some impossible task, she had felt them before after all, but this time would be an actual visit. Furthermore, she was being directed by her parent to deal with them. Could this alter what her daughters saw when it came to her and the visit on the whole?

Understanding of their temporal sight worked in ways Nyx did not know. She had allowed them to exist all on their own. She had birthed them, and they seemed to enjoy their private freedom, so she gave them the largest berth possible.

This led her to the Temple dedicated to her daughters. She hesitated to visit the females that the Titans called the 'Sisters of Fate'. To Nyx, she felt the name 'Moirai' was more fitting for her daughters. For her sensibilities, it suited them. However, she could not account for the tastes of others.

Regardless of her opinion, much had changed in the lands above and in the Underworld since Ouranos' demise. Cronos had been made King of Olympus, Rhea had been raised up to Queen of Olympus through her marriage, beings of many names and titles were flooding existence with their bodies and powers, Nyx was struck by a sense of abandonment from her Primordial siblings, and still existence continued on as if nothing were amiss.

Could nothing remain the same as time marched on? Or was for nothing to stay in fear of reality becoming stagnant?

Gaia had paired with Ouranos and made their Titan children even as Nyx had united with Erebus before his vanishing. True, it was not a copulation bred through physicality, but it was a union that Nyx had an understanding of.

In that way, Nyx comprehended that it was the nature of the Primordials to be different; this included being unlike one another. Eros' disappearance entirely early on was something the other Primordials waved away, but Nyx could never understand why, and as she shook her head, she wondered if this was why Chaos had dismissed her.

Was her familial care so great that it had upset her creator?

With the true siblings of the Underworld (Tartarus and Erebus) absent as well as Chaos' verdict of the Night Primordial, Nyx contemplated if it was her destiny to be alone. Was she only ever meant to be a mother in a desolate Realm without guests, companionship, or love as the beings above understood it?

The more she considered her prospects, it may very well be her destiny to vanish from the world as the other Chthonic Primordials.

While her thoughts came to those conclusions, her feet had taken her to the inner chamber of her daughters' temple where the very air was heavily thick with the cosmic wisdom of her offspring.

When she properly recovered her mind from all the thoughts, Nyx brought herself before the three prescient goddesses. She gazed upon them with a respect for their powers. It was those gives that would make them entirely aware of why she had come.

"Mother Night," Clothos, the youngest looking daughter, Spinner of the Threads of Fate, viewer of the past, began with otherworldly clarity. "You have come to inquire about your romantic future."

Nyx nodded despite that nod being entirely true. She wanted to know so much more, but if nothing else, she could feel the Progenitor's condemnation of her more than any other facet of creation, so she allowed her children to believe the simplicity of why she came.

Unlike most, and perhaps because of her conversation with Chaos, Nyx did not show emotion to her daughter's precognition abilities. She celebrated them in her heart and mind, but not on her face because if her children could see the future, she believed that they must also, somehow, see her heart, which mattered more than proclaiming her adoration.

"Tell me, my Daughters," Nyx implored with love. She would not be as dismissive of them as Chaos seemed to be disdainful towards Nyx. "Am I meant to be alone?"

Lachesis, the middle daughter, Weaver of the Threads of Fate, viewer of present, leaned forward. "You are not so alone now, Mother."

Nyx smiled, admiring her daughter's cleverness. She enjoyed that they were not afraid of her or held her in such esteem that they could not be their usual self. She might have let out a cry of jubilation for their casual sense of ease they showed of her if she were a more emotive being. Instead, she gave their respect a show of deference in turn.

"I believe you know what I mean, Child," Nyx remarked simply. "Cronos and the Titans above have their romances. Will I find the same?"

"Would you still want it knowing it could hold the same hardships that the Titans face?" Atropos, the eldest of the Sisters who saw the future and the Cutter of the Threads of Fate, inquired. "Or if we might give you words comparable to the Progenitor?

Her voice was almost as emotionless as Nyx's, but with a potent addition of the certitude of Nyx's ancestor. At the edge of her words, there was a tinge of mystery, mixed with a light sprinkling of astonishment, but with a cautious finish.

Nyx only smiled to the eldest of the Moirai as an answer was provided to Mother Night. Though the act was small and directed at one, the display was for the trio.

"Very well," Atropos replied in response. "But in future, never ask more than you wish to know, and never accept less than you need to know ... not even from us."

For others, her answer might have been cold, but Nyx could sense the affectionate bonds of a daughter to her mother within the words.

"There will be many who share your affection," Atropos went on, "but one shall stand above all others, Mother. A love that could last forever."

Nyx's heart quickened with anticipation. "Who is this love, my daughters? Please, tell me."

The Sisters exchanged meaningful glances between them. They did understand their mother, even more than they understood the other divine beings. How could they not? She had helped bring them into existence.

It was Clothos who spoke up with enigmatic certainty. "The road of destiny is ever-changing, Nyx. The threads of the future can intertwine until they weave intricate patterns even without the complicated nature of love."

Nyx felt a curious yearning. Atropos' question repeated in her mind, asking if she wanted to know given all the problems on Olympus. All Nyx needed to do was look at the event of Ouranos taking Rhea. Did Ouranos love Rhea? Unlikely, but Nyx suspected the young, broken girl did love her father. Her love was destroying the Kingdom of Olympus, and by Nyx's estimation, it would lead to Cronos' downfall and an empty sorrow for Rhea.

Even still, with all of that destruction, Nyx did wonder. However, wonder was not enough for her children. They needed her commitment to the task. "Please, give me a glimpse, Daughters. Who is this love?"

The Three Sisters acknowledged their Mother's request. Unlike the kings that came to them, Nyx meant the Moirai no harm, and what she asked was for herself. They would give her peace, as she deserved; the world if she asked.

As one, they looked through the Tapestry of Destiny. The power allowed them to see the choices that might lead to the dark Prince who would be Nyx's great love.

In the shadows of the starlit night,

Two souls shall unite, destined in sight.

A love born of darkness, an eternal embrace,

Where secrets reside, entwined in cosmic space.

From the depths of the Underworld's abyss,

Primordial of Night, with power and bliss,

Shall find her equal, a beacon of might,

A soul of fire, burning bright.

Together, they'll dance through twilight's embrace,

In Realms unseen, where mysteries trace.

One born of strength, a hero's birthright,

The other veiled in darkness, cloaked in night.

Their union, a harmony of opposing powers,

A bond forged through fates' weaving hours.

Their love, a secret whispered on the breeze,

A connection woven in celestial tapestries.

Through trials by fire, they shall endure,

A love that transcends is steadfast and pure.

Their hearts entangled, a celestial dance,

A romance shrouded in a timeless trance.

So, Nyx, Primordial of Night, profound,

Embrace the mystery; let love be found.

In the depths of darkness, your heart shall ignite,

And in this union, true love takes flight.

Seek not the names that Fate has concealed,

For love's essence transcends what is revealed.

Embrace the enigma, let destiny guide,

As your great love beckons, side by side.

Within the Realms of gods and men,

A love so profound, it shall transcend.

Embrace the journey, trust in its design,

For in the union of souls, love shall intertwine.

The prophecy unfolds, a tale yet untold,

Where Nyx's heart finds solace and hold,

A love that defies the Realms of light,

In shadows united, love ignite.

Nyx heeded every word carefully. She understood, just as when dealing with Chaos, that she would need to listen to each word with care while never implanting her own intentions or desires onto the words. This would be a matter of hearing her daughters, not simply listening to give a reply.

Without the aid of her daughters' magic, and by considering each of their words thoroughly, she could see a prince with a sword in hand slashing from the lower parts of Tartarus to the Living Realm. She envisioned a powerful, black haired young man. He was full of laughter and fun. Immature, but somehow, still stoic in his duty to a King and ... brother?

She could see a life with him forever. Her connection to Chaos and the existential forces of reality were wrapping her up in her destiny and doom. Should that doom mean her destruction, it would be enough. Through it all, she smiled. A small tear of liquid starlight fell down her cheek.

When her divided attention returned to the moment in the temple, she looked to her daughters. She stared at them in silence; they would say no more, nor did Nyx's heart require them to.

"Thank you, my Daughters," she said, inclining her head in deference to them.

She knew that if one was cold, she would be cruel in turn. What her daughters had said was not only a fulfillment of a request, but the giving of a gift to set Nyx's mind at ease. No such balm could exist without truth, so when she showed gratitude, so too was it given in turn with the same award of veracity

"For everything," she finished.

Returning to the shadow of her darkness of the Underworld was the most respectful way Nyx could think of leaving, so Nyx did so in order to depart from the Fates willingly.

**********

Chapter 5: The Regretful Choice

"Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind."

— Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Marble Faun, originally published by Ticknor and Fields, 1860.

Years bled into decades — on and under the high mountain of the divine.

Rhea continued to give birth. Both to her annoyance and thankfulness, her next two children were girls, whom she named Demeter and then Hera. That meant she still had time.

It was oxymoronic how she felt. On one hand, she wanted Cronos deposed as quickly as possible; on the other, to move against him before she and Gaia were ready meant they would fail. She did not fear waiting too long. Cronos was despondent as a creature of habit.

Nothing about him changed.

Even that thought brought about contrary statements that made Rhea laugh.

She was getting pretty good at being pregnant and giving birth. The labor pains were becoming manageable. But then, when she looked at the other Titans, Rhea observed that they were having children left and right. With the passage of time in their Realm, even some titan children were having children.

There were Oceanids, Nereids, lesser titans, some like the one called Cratus were throwing around the title 'god'.

When the children of the Titans considered themselves the equal to the offspring of Gaia and Ouranos, Rhea let out a snort of a chortle. They were titans in a manner of speaking, but they were not Titans. The honorifics mattered, and Rhea held that truth inwardly. As Queen of Olympus, there was no reason that she could not remind others of the distinction.

She was superior as a trueborn daughter of Ouranos and Gaia. She was superior to her Titaness sisters. She was equal to Gaia, both because of their shared plotting and because Ourannos had taken Rhea to bed over her mother.

When she went back to consider the landscape and population of the lands, she was finding the changing flows of reality to be rather charming. She wondered if Gaia had seen the Titans in their youth the same way Rhea saw these children. If so, she wondered how her mother handled such immaturity, entitlement, and their youthful spirits.

Rhea laughed from her palace on Olympus. Every piece of existence was changing. Just as it had changed in the past, she supposed life always would change, but it was fascinating to watch it happen and so very rarely be involved.

Her thoughts of the mundane world down below were often interrupted. Her jailer would walk by her palace, returning her thoughts to her plans of usurpation.

Cronos' behavior did not seem to change in Rhea's estimation. He continued to treat her like an object to slake his lust on, but that did not stop her from using him for the same purpose. There was no love in their intercourse. It was primal, almost hateful. Every additional sexual encounter gave Cronos his release but could potentially conceive a son that would depose him.

If anyone were to judge her, she would not tell them her life story. She would remind them that sex was only an act. Those who did not know what she went through, could not lay claim to judge her. She was a queen trapped in a farce of a marriage, with a man that cared more for his power and prestige than the woman he claimed to love.

Though... that realization brought a sad change to Rhea. She no longer pretended it was Ouranos with her in those carnal moments. She could not bear to think about what was lost when she needed to focus on what was to be gained.

Her mind singularly dreamt of Cronos' defeat.

In the end, that was her satisfaction in every regard.

**********

As time went on, Cronos came to regret his consumption of Aether. It grew within him like a mass that gnawed at his innards until it traveled up his spine to the back of his mind. There was a lingering pain within his stomach from time to time. He wondered if that was just his imagination. If it was not, Cronos suspected that the ache was a remnant of Aether as an echo within his belly.

The throbbing irritation may just have been a sign that he had gone too far. It might have been better to allow Aether to live and his first son to take the throne whenever that child was born. There was very little pleasure in ruling for Cronos.

Gaia would only come to Olympus to see Rhea. His Titan brothers and sisters were more involved with one another than with him. Their children paid reverence to him once or twice, kneeling to acknowledge him as their sovereign before departing. He scarcely saw him on his mountain ever again.

He was starting to suspect that they were purposefully ignoring him. His crimes against existence certainly gave them excuse enough not to. No. He was no fool. He knew his act of devouring Aether had been a line too far. He recognized that much of it. He had not gone against the Fates by doing so. It had been about his father, not about the child. What did it matter? Aether was not his son. He was the son of Ouranos.

Did the other Titans know? Is that why they separated themselves from him?

If that were the truth, he could not go down to Greece and ask them. To inquire about their fear of him might only push them further into their fright of him. When they got distant enough, would they decide he no longer deserved to rule over them as they had with their father?

Even he could see that his rule was becoming a lonely and sad affair, but more... it was becoming a cage for him to wallow in. He could only sit on his throne and see his relationships deteriorate without realistic recourse to repair any of them.

Cronos' mind fell into the plague of doubt. He once had an unwavering resolve, but upon having his seat of power, he could feel that resolve faltering.

Was it anyone's fault but his own? The Fates had warned him. They could not be blamed. When he was younger, he did not aspire to power. He had only wanted to be with Rhea.

He mused that he could stop what he was doing and free Rhea. They could be two Titans in the lands. All he had to do was let the idea of the throne go. After all, the Fates said if he let his oldest son have the throne, Cronos could live.

Looking out at the majestic beauty of Olympus, Cronos closed his fist.

No. To give up was too give into the idea of not being enough. If he backed down from the responsibilities of ruling, Ouranos was right to take Rhea from him. It was as if Cronos were admitting that it was better that Ouranos should live and rule and Cronos should have nothing.

To step down was to surrender. He had surrendered too much of his joys and wants to just give up on the throne. He had won this seat of power through battle, sweat, and ichor. To surrender would be the greatest injustice of all.

**********

To find qualities necessary in a ruler was far more difficult than Rhea had expected. What sanctioned a good ruler? Was it prudence? Kindness? A firm hand? Patience?

Explaining it was impossible. To weigh one piece of someone's identity against another became an infeasibility that Rhea could not communicate through language. It was as though the structure of words suddenly held no meaning to her.

The simplest, most fundamental truth of what would make a good queen was that Rhea felt she would know. It was instinct born from the intuition that Rhea had cultivated since before she was queen. While there was rationale to the process, she firmly believed she would feel the answer.

Upon closer inspection of her daughters, Rhea recognized that Hestia lacked the spirit required to become the Queen of the usurper of Cronos even if she was the first born child. She was too much of a people pleaser, wanting to be loved by Rhea and Gaia to her own detriment. With a heavy heart, Rhea found Hestia's love of home charming, but it was not enough to rule.

Demeter held promise as a potential Queen. She was cold in nature, pragmatic to a fault, and could profoundly change the weather with a word even at the youngest age. Rhea almost thought she might be perfect as her power over frost and cold could be a challenge to whichever deity married her.

However, Rhea wondered if Demeter even wanted to be with a male counterpart as she was incredibly distant from others. In that way, she could be frigid and cold. Rhea knew a king would want someone warm and welcoming in the bedroom, and to placate the king would be one of the many jobs of the queen.

Rhea's youngest daughter was Hera, and by Rhea's estimation, she showed the most potential to be a ruler. It felt as though she were made for amazing reverence and terrible beauty. Hera's magic was diverse unlike her sisters. She was more like her Rhea's power, which would allow her to perform breathtaking wonders.

Weaving their magic together, Rhea and Hera worked to improve their surroundings in Olympus. Columns would rebuild on their own, if anyone should crush them as Cronos had, after Hera's and Rhea's efforts. Cloth and curtains gained a superior celestial gleam, the gardens grew faster and under their own power, and waterfalls sparkled with a light of grandeur.

A burgeoning belly heralded her next child's birth, and Rhea could feel an air of tension hanging over Olympus. There was a solemnity to it that marked a change that Rhea knew at once.

This pregnancy had a tangible, unspeakable difference. There was a defiant spirit in the child so much like her first pregnancy. Her girls had become more and more manageable in terms of births after Hestia came free. Maybe Rhea's labor with Hestia was only painful because Rhea had been in mourning of Aether.

In the confines of Rhea's palace, the two queens sat from across one another when Rhea decided to share her belief with her mother.

"The child will be a boy," Rhea informed Gaia.

Gaia shooed Hera away from the two talking. While Hera was chosen to be the next Queen in Rhea's mind, it was clear that she did not need to hear or be a part of the scheming and machinations just yet.

"Then let us hope this boy has the strength of will to fight against Cronos," Gaia prayed.

"And if he does?" Rhea asked.

Even as she said the word, salivation coated her mouth. She hoped it would be more than will that the child brought against Cronos for all the wrongs that he had wrought.

Gaia had put some thought into the matter. That much Rhea knew because the Earth Primordial was patiently steadfast in all she did in action, and so her mind was thorough in all of its thinking.

"We will find a way to protect him," Gaia asserted. She looked about the palace as if to find a replacement for the future babe. "We could trick Cronos into believing the child died or was taken to other lands."

Rhea considered her mother's response. For one who always thought events through, this sort of answer was lacking by Rhea's estimation.

"Maybe... " Rhea remarked slowly.

Would she need to provide a solution to the problem? She was the one carrying a potential king in her belly. That should have been enough for her part in these actions. More and more, Rhea wondered what Gaia provided in the arrangement.

Gaia touched Rhea on the shoulder. Her maternal affection permeated her mannerisms and tone of voice.

"Breathe, Rhea," Gaia advised. "We will find our way."

**********

Rhea found out just how wrong she was about delivering a baby when she screamed and shouted her rage in her birthing labor. Bringing forth her first son by Cronos was as painful as Cronos was unfeeling.

No matter how much ichor she lost in the process or how much delivery pained her, she would persevere because she had to.

To die would mean she would not see the day that Cronos lost all that he held dear, and Rhea had every intention of surviving to celebrate Cronos' downfall.

When she had stood her ground and committed to her vengeance, she had thrown away any careful thought of any other action; she did not care what was required for this results she wanted.

He would fall, and she would be there to watch it happen. This future was as true to her as the foundations of reality created by Chaos.

Gaia was the ever-comforting midwife in the room. Supportive as she was, the Earth Primordial knew that the birth was taking a toll by how much ethereal fluid Rhea lost. The glittering sight of golden ichor stained the Primordial Queen's hands. It might have unnerved her if she were there for any other purpose than to help her daughter.

With a wet cloth for Rhea's forehead and a hand for her to hold, Gaia ensured that Rhea would make it through. It did not matter how much resplendently glistening moisture was lost from Rhea. Only Ouranos and Aether had ever died, Gaia would not allow Rhea to be the third while in her care.

Seconds had a strange quality to them during this terrible incident. They stretched longer than they should have while also stringing together, so everything was moving both too fast and too slow for Gaia. She felt she would fail her daughter by satisfying the wrong requirement of the birth.

Thankfully, the child did come from between Rhea's legs.

Gaia marveled at the small baby's glow of divinity. He was little for either a Titan or a Primordial, but he was vibrant by all accounts. He was the epitome of life. He might be able to grow up and be more powerful than Cronos all on his own.

The two mothers looked at him with clinically assessing eyes. Regardless of the sterile analysis, Gaia gave him a stare filled with grandmotherly love.

"He's strong, like his father," Gaia observed kindly.

Rhea looked at the new child with mild disgust when she was no longer breathing heavily. Bringing him into the world had taken far more from her than she expected, but that was not the surprise that brought her such repugnance.

"He is the spitting image of Cronos," she let out.

That she might birth Cronos' twin was so abhorrent to her that she could not hold back the words. She wanted a child to be Cronos' downfall, not him in miniature.

Gaia nodded in agreement even though she wanted to deny the resemblance. She knew that her daughter's prejudicial disdain for Cronos would affect how she treated her son. It was impossible for her not to recognize the scorn her daughter had for her own child, and the Primordial pitied the boy's existence.

"Hades," Rhea said softly. "You will be Hades."

Even as she had named him, she did not take the prince into her arms. If Cronos treated Hades anything like Ouranos or Aether, Hades would not be in the land of the living for long.

**********

Chapter 6: The Choice Made

"Time is what we want most, but what we use worst."

— William Penn, Some Fruits of Solitude (1693). Copyright © public domain.

Time was a funny thing to Gaia. Whether it was years, decades, centuries, millenia, or eons could have passed all around her, and she would have known.

What she did know is what concerned her the most. From her children's dealing with Cronos, after the consumption of Aether, Cronos had been a model ruler.

He had helped broker a peace between Oceanus and Pontus, he gave others room to create, he did not interfere unless called, and while he did not dote on his daughters, he had not consumed them either.

With what she heard, the more she considered the matter, the more she began to wonder if plotting with Rhea for the downfall of Cronos was the right thing or not.

These sort of thoughts led her back to the Underworld's gloomy ground.

Night and Earth would meet once more to sate Mother Earth's need for wisdom. They were both older than the ground beneath their feet.

Mother Night stood beneath a firmament of cosmic black speckled with faint lights and unnatural hues.

Nyx's gown mirrored the sky but also the night of its mistress. Diamond starlight were scattered throughout. At her throat rested a necklace of liquid shadow. When she breathed, the stars caught in her gown's folds pulsed faintly.

Gaia stopped just behind Nyx. These Primordials did not spend as much time with one another as they should. After all, they are siblings, but where Gaia's future had been above with the Titans, Nyx's was down below with the Chthonic children of the Underworld.

Nyx regarded her visitor carefully for a moment. When she recognized who had come, she spoke in a welcoming manner.

"You have come a long way, Sister," Nyx remarked.

Her voice was spoken with an airy depth. She was the Night. To have an expansive abyss-like quality to even her manner of speech was not only natural for her but expected.

Gaia smiled before she inclined her head. This was the Underworld. While Gaia still had authority in the Living Realm, this was the Underworld, and it was to Nyx that she gave respect.

Perhaps, there would be a King of the Underworld someday. After all, the service had a male ruler, but until that day, it was to Nyx that Gaia looked to with respect.

"Yes, and I apologize. I know it has been quite some time."

Nyx did not respond quickly. She considered her Primordial sibling attentively.

"What causes turmoil within you?" Nyx asked.

"What makes you believe I am troubled?" Gaia asked, curious.

Nyx almost let out a laugh. She turned fully. This served two functions for her. The both of them could examine one another better, and Nyx could comfortably converse with her sister. No matter the order, how many children they bore, or the events occurring on any part of Chaos' creation, they were siblings.

"I know you, Gaia. I think I am one of the few beings in existence that can tell when something is on your mind."

The Earth Primordial let out a long breath.

"My son is king. He wrongs very few, and I believe he is repentant of the wrongs he has done," Gaia started.

She did not let out another sigh. Instead, she looked to Nyx, who seemed to be encouraging with a listening look about her. This encouraged Gaia more than anything else to continue speaking.

"Rhea is bearing children. The other Titans have expanded their dominions. All the errors of life seem to be made right in them."

"Is this not all as you intended all those years ago when you came seeking my daughters' advice?" Nyx wondered.

The question was not a reminder, nor was it asked as a way to keep score. Nyx cared for Gaia, so there was no ulterior motive to the asking other than to make sure that Nyx could understand. Once she had comprehension of her sister's concerns, then (and only then) would Nyx offer any advice.

"It is," Gaia answered. "I worried that the kingship would breed problems for Cronos and make him overreach and become cruel like his father, but it has not."

Gaia shook her head and rubbed her temple.

"All that I might have wished for my children has come to pass and more. There's a golden peace where we all might live forever. And yet, I feel sorry for myself, conflicted about what I should be doing."

She held herself back from revealing the depths of the prophecies at play here. Gaia was not sure what it would mean to try and trick the Fates or force their predictions to come true. Further still, she did not want to involve Nyx.

Gaia had only trusted Rhea in this endeavor because she loathed Cronos. He was unfairly unjust to her, and that was motivation enough for Rhea to follow Gaia into whatever tumultuous events they planned.

"And you have come, seeking counsel?" Nyx asked.

Gaia had stopped speaking, and the Primordial of Night suspected that there would be more that needed to be said, but she would not push. Motherhood was a complicated situation. Nyx knew that more than most. All of her children had different needs, so this was the same to her.

When Gaia nodded, Nyx did her best to speak.

"I doubt I could direct you better than my daughters. It is their power to see events, not mine."

"I do not mean to dabble in prophecy in this issue anymore," Gaia said.

That was true enough, but a deeper truth was that she feared involving herself with the Fates more. They told her that they would not reveal the destinies of others to her, and the fact that they had brought down Ouranos told Gaia to be cautious.

Those were reasons enough to not seek them out. They were too dangerous to seek instruction on how to navigate the path ahead.

"But you are my sister, Nyx. By every measurement, you are my equal, so if there was anyone who might offer me advice..."

"It would be me," Nyx finished. "We are both ancient, but we have lived different lives, Sister. What makes you imagine that I might have an answer that you do not,"

"Because you have a different perspective," Gaia said quickly. "Maybe there's a pattern to all of this that your daughters see, but I want help, not to become someone's slave or try to command another."

A flash of pain and cold words exchanged burned out from Nyx's mind.

"Neither I, nor my daughters, created the pattern that you want help through," Nyx said. "And it sounds like you're a child in need of advice, not guidance from a sister.

"Then who should I see?"

Nyx turned her head and lifted her right hand. A tall archway of dark stone came from the ground of the Underworld. In the area that should have only had air, there was an inky, liquid blackness that writhed with unpredictable life.

"I know that..." she breathed, barely getting the words out. "That leads to—"

"Our creator," Nyx said distantly.

Gaia could not know all the depths and pains Nyx had had with their shared sire. After all, while Gaia had been close to her children, Nyx had been close to the Progenitor.

"Go to them, and I am certain that they will give you truth."

Gaia's gaze flicked to Nyx before bouncing to the entrance. She was unsure of this path. As far as she knew, no one had gone to the Progenitor since the creation of all things. Even then, the Primordials were born, and then they were pushed from Chaos' Realm.

Nyx turned to allow her sister to make the choice.

The arch shuddered when Gaia's barky hand touched the entrance. The dark portal flexed and then the surface stilled into perfect emptiness.

Gaia stepped into the arch.

Regardless of what was coming, she needed answers for her fears.

**********

Sending Gaia to their predecessor might have been a mistake.

Nyx could not know for certain, but she could recognize the confusion and hurt in Gaia. She was struggling with Olympus. Whatever Cronos and the Titans were doing, it was having a tangible effect on the Earth Primordial.

That much of it was clear.

However, Nyx was not acclimated to all of the news and going-ons of the Living Realm. Her daughters would be a good source for help, but Gaia communicated that she was against that path.

If Nyx was too obsessed with Chaos that Chaos would send Nyx to speak to the Fates, maybe Gaia was too obsessed with the Fates, and the smartest thing Nyx could do was get Gaia to look to a higher power for answers.

It was the best she could think of. Nyx hoped she had made the right choice.

**********

She did not know what to expect when she entered. It had been a long time since she had been born in this Realm. Emptiness would have made the most sense. After all, what could possibly exist outside of the fabric of materiality?

It was like imagining someone outside space and time. Gaia knew it was possible. If there was a maker, they would have to be above their creation and entirely capable of interacting with it.

For all of her thinking of the Progenitor, Gaia found that Chaos' Realm was neither empty nor still, for it seethed with a life entirely alien to the lands of Greece.

When her attention returned to herself, Gaia found that she stood upon a mass of white stone that worked as a platform for Chaos as well as any visitor. She supposed that she was the visitor. Above the Primordial Queen, whatever passed for the sky (for it was not a heavens designed by Ouranos) moved with serpentine coils of light and darkness. It extended endlessly into the abyss of nowhere to become nothingness.

And there, at the center of it all, was Chaos.

They hovered over the edge of the platform. The churning mass of the sky seemed to react to Gaia but far more so to the complete and incomplete being that stared out at nothing. Their gray skin was sleek like a wet tree branch beneath the changing, casting tints of the domain. They alternated between masculine and feminine outlines. Their limbs were solid one moment and dissipating into shadow and mist the next.

Light, darkness, matter, antimatter, solid, liquid, gas, and every variation in between had a hold on the form of the creator of Greece. It might have been something for Gaia to marvel at if only she had not been born to and by this magnificent being.

Their face was devoid of definition for anyone to latch onto. The vague suggestion of eyes told Gaia where they might be looking. A quiet gravity emitted from their personage.

The Earth Primordial understood why in a way the Titans or lesser Chthonic beings could never know. Chaos was the Realm, and the Realm was Chaos. They were one. If one were to destroy this landscape, they would destroy Chaos. If one were to destroy Chaos, they would destroy the Realm.

Chaos turned toward her.

"Ah... Welcome, Gaia. You have returned to the source of your creation. Though," they added with mild confusion. "Your return was not anticipated."

Their voice did not sound like normal speech. The pronouncement of words was more of a reverberation made by a choir of voices overlapping into one utterance that buried beneath the skin until it rippled through the veins to find the ear of the listener.

"Regardless," Chaos went on. "It has been millenia since you have graced my dominion with your presence."

Gaia stood tall, for that was all she could do. The sound of the Progenitor caused a shiver to run up and down her spine at irregular intervals.

"Has it?" Gaia barely got out.

"Since the birth of Ouranos, you have inhabited the Mortal, Living Realm," Chaos replied.

There was no judgment in their words; neither was their tone scornful or indulgent. There was a quality to it that bothered Gaia.

"Now, you return to your maker," Chaos observed. "For what reason?"

Gaia hesitated. Was there a correct answer to the question? She could not know. Beyond that, this was not the Progenitor they remembered.

After speaking with Nyx, Gaia had expected some sort of warmth from the originator off the divine. Chaos' gaze, however, was hollow. Their words were detached. There was nothing of pride or love or empathetic kindness.

Gaia had to force herself to speak. Out of all of her conceptualizations of Chaos, this was not the outcome she had expected.

"I've come to discuss Cronos," Gaia choked out

What was the most important crisis occurring on Olympus barely seemed to make a mark on the creator of the divinities.

"A trivial matter," Chaos remarked apathetic.

Gaia restrained a glare. For her problems to be considered small made her burn with loathing.

"Trivial?" Gaia got out.

"As you are aware, I created this part of existence, Gaia, it was I who made you and your Primordial siblings, and I shall make more facets of existence," Chaos remarked. "And yet, despite the immensity you know I possess, you would wish to speak to me of succession?"

Gaia flinched back. To be chastised over seeking counsel was not the result that should have come of this meeting. She was a daughter to Chaos. This would not do.

A flash of annoyance at her nightly sister crossed her mind. Had Nyx known this was how Chaos would treat her?

"Well, yes," Gaia said, unsure.

For the first time in centuries, she was unsure. She looked to the floor of the platform. None of the transformative nature of the domain held any true wonder for her. The area made her long for the steady constance of her soily earth in the Living Realm.

"Cronos has ruled well..." she went on.

She struggled to find the words. The feelings of inadequacy were overtaking her in a manner unlike ever before. To just stand before the Progenitor and feel unworthy was the epitome of failure. For the Primordial Queen, there was no greater calamity than this moment.

"Despite his poor decisions with his half-brother, he has brought peace to his dominion. He's done well as a ruler. There's stability; there's happiness. And yet..." she continued on despite her hesitancy. "I made a vow to work with Rhea in removing him from power. Now I worry that I may have been too quick in agreeing to work with her. I am uncertain if I should move against him."

For all the words spoken by Gaia, Chaos regarded her in silence.

"And you have come to me, after millennia, to seek permission?" Chaos wondered.

"I—" Gaia stopped.

There it was again. The dismissive inquiry, the disappointed cadence, the indifferent demeanor to all that Gaia found important. It all deserved to be challenged.

But then, a sudden, stinging sensation on her palm made her glance down. She found a thin cut with a single drop of golden ichor.

"What the...? Did you do this to me?"

"Did you imagine that you could enter this place without consequence?" Chaos wondered blandly. "To come to this Realm, life essence of the divine is required.

"I am your daughter!"

"You are a visitor today. Potentially an interloper tomorrow," Chaos remarked offhandedly to the exclamation. "The price is a small one to open the boundary between realms."

Gaia sighed. When the air left her mouth, she allowed the intrusion of her ichor. She had come for advice, and she would not be distracted by mild pain, and the costs to entering Chaos' Realm.

"I apologize, but I need to know how best to handle the situation of my offspring."

"Apologies are beneath you," Chaos rebuked. "I created you to steward the lands of my making You were to hand down authority from one generation to the next without it consuming your life.."

Gaia's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"A steward is one that takes care of things. Generations are a father to a son," Chaos said. "A mother to a daughter. That is the order of things."

Gaia's breath caught. For her creator to sum her up in simple sentences and be no more worried about it than most are concerned about the weather unsettled the Primordial.

"Is that all I am? To you? To existence?"

"No one is only their design," Chaos answered. "I may have made you to shape the earth, but this was only the outline of your personage. What you choose to be defines the rest. Queen. Grandmother. Lover. Friend. Fighter. Or simply an observer. You are as you choose to be."

Gaia's mouth opened, but no words emerged.

"You seek my counsel, Daughter," Chaos continued, "because you already know the answer you want to make in your heart. If you wish to be more than your design for the cycle, then conduct yourself accordingly."

"You would have me betray my son?"

"I would have you choose."

Gaia stepped forward in annoyance at her parent, but Chaos lifted a hand like a leaf in the breeze.

The realm around the two seemed to collapse. A twisting pull stole Gaia away in a stumbling mess.

When she opened her eyes and had control over her faculties, she found herself standing upon the sunlit grass of her island.

She turned her head to look all around herself. How in all of creation did Chaos do that? Before she even could consider the question more, Gaia stared down at her hand. The cut had already begun to close.

It was apparent how the Progenitor had done what they had done. They had created everything. Clearly, it would be an easy feat to dismiss Gaia.

The Earth Primordial found herself staring out at the ocean. Thoughts of a castrated Ouranos flashed through her mind. She considered the words of Chaos that lingered within her mind.

"No one is only their design."

Regardless of the intentions of Ouranos and Gaia for their children, they had become far more than either of them had intended. Maybe that was what Chaos was inferring in a roundabout way.

That she had doubts about harming Cronos could be all that was required for Gaia to stop herself from this usurpation of her son.

After all, she could not be despondent like Chaos or cruel in parentage like Ouranos. No... Gaia was steadfast and patient. She was the Earth Primordial.

She could not play favorites. To choose one child over the other would be wrong. Unfortunately, this meant she would have to displease her daughter. However, displeasing Rhea was nowhere near as final as deposing Cronos.

The child would understand. She could forgive. She was young.

And after all, Rhea had lain with Ouranos. The least she could do was being understanding of Gaia.

**********

Cronos paced back and forth in his private chambers within the halls of his palace.

For all his rage at his father and his wife for their infidelity, it seemed that time had dulled that even that most grievous of wounds. He had helped cultivate a Greece that his father would never recognize. The enormity of his day to day decisions after becoming king were weighing more heavily upon him.

From helping his brothers make wonders to consuming Aether, the Titan King was starting to wonder if he was making the right choices.

When he cherished his time with Rhea in what he believed to be lovemaking, he found himself content with life. There was joy in the union for him. He could find himself blissful with what he had. The past had no hold on him in those small instances.

When his mind went to Rhea's first child, he had ruin his own happiness. With Aether, Cronos had good reason to consume him. Ouranos' taint needed to be removed from the world.

The act had been entirely necessary.

His current predicament was not the same as it was not demanded of him.

Hades, as Cronos heard Rhea call the child, had done nothing wrong to him. He was the proper son of Cronos. Was this not what he had wanted all along?

If Cronos did to Hades what he had done to Aether, he would be doing far more than an injustice to his actual heir. He may very well be playing into the hands of the Fates. But if he gave Hades the throne, would he not be giving into their hands anyway? Was there a right choice to make?

He did not want to be manipulated, but even as he thought on the subject, he recognized some facets of unfairness in himself. Hades appeared so alike to a young Cronos. Is that not what he had always wanted? Children with Rhea had been his deepest, truest dream before it had been stolen away by Ouranos' selfish appetites.

As the moment of genuine thought was passing over him, Cronos could not believe himself. Even still, after all these years, the actions of his father still haunted the Titan King and his reign.

He wrestled with the decisions he might make, the consequences of those choices, and where it would all lead. He could not find an acceptable answer.

Strangely, for all of his thinking of actions he might take, he never considered the alternative that the Fates were right. Not because he was adverse to their wisdom, but rather because it made him confront a dangerous truth: He was not meant to rule.

In the end, he was torn between his fear of prophecy on one hand while not becoming a monster like his father on the other hand. Those were the only probabilities worth considering, and so they dominated his mind.

It might have been easier to just let go. Try as he did to not consider that reality, the strife would be over if he simply relinquished his throne.

The problem was that it was not so simple anymore. Reality had expanded since the days of Ouranos. There was the Great Flame in the sky. The seas were teaming with nymphs thanks to Oceanus and Tethys. It was a world taking shape rather than the outline Ouranos had dominion over.

Taking a moment, Cronos stopped pacing. He believed this pause would help him think.

The room was silent save for the whispers of his conflicted conscience. Cronos leaned back and fixed his gaze toward the ceiling. The answers were not there, but he searched for them as if they were.

The dancing torch flame mirrored the flicker of doubt in his heart. For every choice, he knew there would be repercussions. Someone would judge him harshly no matter what he did, and this led him to what he believed to be the most incontrovertible fact: There was no solution to the dilemma.

Expelling the air from his lungs, decisiveness overtook him. He went to the nursery in deliberate steps.

He had not gone into the room often because his children brought him no joy. His daughters were a reminder that Rhea had not bore him a son, and thinking of a son only made Cronos imagine the prophecy. It all seemed to compound on itself.

Three girls had been raised in the room that he found himself staring at.

He felt no threat from them because the Fates had foretold that only his son could depose him. The girls were innocent in all of the events going on around Olympus. Harming them would be immorality itself because, in the end, they had done nothing wrong, and... he had to begrudgingly admit that they were his daughters. They deserved to be princesses on Olympus.

All thoughts of daughters and family and royalty and even kindness vanished from the Titan King when he grew closer to the child. Proximity to his son seemed to bring everything into reality all the more for the ruler of Olympus.

Looking upon Hades, Cronos saw himself in the small, helpless deity. He was entirely helpless and trusting of his surroundings. He had been brought into the world; his innocent mind and soul would not be able to conceive of an unjust cruelty being brought down onto him for the simple crime of existing.

When Cronos looked the child in the eyes, he found himself asking a question to himself. Was Hades not his child as well? Did he not deserve the same empathy that the daughters had been given?

Should not a child be given its parents adoration and affection freely? No cost could be required for a son to be loved by his father.

Caressing his son's cheek with a soft slowness, Cronos considered what it would mean to consume him as he had Aether.

Hades was his son, unlike Aether. Ouranos had done wrongs to Cronos, and Aether was an extension of those crimes. Hades was the spawn of Cronos, and he had committed no transgression against his father. On the contrary, the small being seemed only delight in seeing his sire visit him.

Hades glowed with a light unlike Aether. It was as if divinity flowed through him more naturally than in either Cronos or Aether. Did this mean he had a higher form of consciousness than either as well? Did he recognize his father in a way Aether had not recognized Cronos as his brother?

Rather than let those questions overtake him or to be wrought with jealousy of this perceived power, Cronos felt a bit of pride in Hades' unique might. Hades' gifts were a reflection of Cronos.

This had been what he had wanted all those years back. It was being handed to him on a platter more valuable than any precious metal.

To consume Hades would be a betrayal of the ideals he held when he fought his father or even of the dreams he had when Cronos had loved Rhea in the most pure manner.

Those thoughts sunk deep into his mind, imbedding there. Harming Hades would make Cronos just like Ouranos. That was enough of a condemnation for Cronos to leave Hades to rest.

**********

Morning came and went in a blur. When she went to the nursery, Rhea was surprised Cronos had not devoured Hades. Her husband did not make any efforts to speak to Rhea, nor did he readily ignore her. Rhea found that Cronos was sullen but not vindictive towards her or their child.

As the days went by, Cronos did nothing. Rhea becoming more and more concerned. She had been so sure that Cronos would eat Hades as he had with Aether. Finding the baby alive was a surprise, but Rhea was not sure if it was a welcome one or not. Taking a chance on Cronos' seemingly stable mood, Rhea decided that it was safe enough to go to her mother, Gaia.

The Primordial Earth deity stood, looking out at the ocean where Ouranos had been castrated and murdered. The blood and other fluids from the battle had long been washed away by the ever-moving waters. Rhea suddenly appeared next to her mother, and Gaid knew that news about the baby's doom would be forthcoming.

"He has not eaten Hades," Rhea informed Gaia.

Gaia did not reply quickly; rather, she surveyed the Realm of Greece with her preternatural sight, which allowed her to see far and wide. While the gift of magical foresight was not hers to have yet, she could see more of what was happening in the world. She watched, despite Cronos' erratically sabotaging actions, as her Titan children filled Greece with more divine children than she could imagine.

"That might be for the best," Gaia remarked, aware of Rhea's shock.

She was too busy smiling at the lands of Greece to fully care for Rhea's vengeful mind. More than that, and deeper in her mind, Gaia thought of their meeting with Chaos. The unfeeling nature of the Progenitor might have been the reason for why Ouranos turned out as he did. And Ouranos' selfish act of taking Rhea might have been why Cronos was how he was.

These patterns were easy to continue if no one did anything; Gaia understood that someone had to stop this cycle.

"How? How is that for the best?" Rhea asked.

"Perhaps, if Cronos can step away from cruelty, there is no reason to remove him from power," Gaia declared.

Rhea stared in a baffled bewilderment at the betrayal of her mother.

"How can you do that after we have started preparing Hera to be the next Queen," Rhea almost screamed in questioning.

"You are a mother," Gaia said distantly. "I see how you care for Demeter, Hera, and Hestia. Even with your disdain for Cronos, you want what's best for them. I want the same for Cronos as his mother."

"Even after what Cronos has done?" Rhea cried out.

Tears of pain started to roll down her cheeks. She might have railed and fought, but she knew it would do her no good.

"To your husband? To my little Aether? To me?" Rhea exclaimed.

Without her mother, she could not move against her Titan King of a husband. That was when the cold realization that she was trapped by her circumstances started to set in.

Only with an ally could she make any headway, and she was short on any compatriots. None of the Titans would help her; even if they could, Cronos would not leave her alone with any of those siblings.

Gaia was her only chance at retribution, and with her pulling away, Rhea could feel her vengeance slipping from her fingers.

"Yes, Rhea, even now, after all of his poor behavior, I want him to be better," Gaia answered magnanimously.

She looked at her daughter to ensure that the Titan Queen understood that this was not done with malice or apathy. Gaia was embracing her deepest meaning of love. Surely, if the daughter could see the depth of affection of the mother, she would find it in her heart to forgive her and more forward.

"If he has it in him to walk away from his evil path, should we not forgive him?" Gaia said. "He is loyal to you, which is so much more than Ouranos was with me. He assists his siblings in improving our Realm. We are prospering better than other Realms from what I have heard from Hyperion. We have so much beautiful potential. We should be glad for the chance for change, not destructively sabotaging it by plotting against our king."

Rhea stared at Gaia in a state of deflated disbelief. However, she allowed no words to pass from her lips.

That her mother would abandon their plan, which would undoubtedly desert Rhea to wallow in misery under Cronos' watchful gaze. She considered howling at her mother. It required all of her self-restraint to hold herself back. Rhea knew that her words would fall upon deaf ears. Therefore, effort would not be wasted.

Defeat ran throughout every part of her body, and she was quickly coming to accept that there was nothing she could do. She tried to think of alternatives, but quickly, she understood that (without Gaia) all of Rhea's ambition would be for naught.

She turned from her mother. If there was no aid for her, she would do better to return to her mountain palace.

"Daughter," Gaia said to her child's back. She did not need to look into Rhea's eyes to know that her withdrawal of support hurt Rhea. "Let go of your anger towards Cronos. I think that is how we move forward. Cronos did not let go of his hatred of Ouranos, and it was poisoning him, just as your hatred of Cronos is poisoning you. If Cronos has let go of that evil, you must too."

Rhea said nothing at first. "I don't hate him, Mother." She disappeared in a flash of light. The grand mountain of the divine accepted her once more to her home. Knowing Gaia, and no one else for that matter, would hear her, emboldened her to add the simple truth of her plan:

"I just have no intention of allowing him to escape punishment."

**********

They had come into the world from the carnage of the first glorious battle of Greece between the Titans and a Primordial. At the time of their birth, these three beings were altogether unaware of their purpose. In the beginning of their consciousness, the sisters were obsessed only with rage and fury.

Though all were from the same ichor, each was different. The first sister had white-blonde hair and wore a functional outfit of blue, black, and gold. She was Megaera, the grudging, and exuded an unrelenting resentment from her very being.

The second had gold and black hair; her dress was black and red, held at the shoulder, and cut at the knees. She was Alecto, the unceasing, and would go on forever to torment and battle whomever stood in her way.

The last sister resembled nothing more than the thinnest skin over a skeleton, wearing a green hood that covered her face. She was Tisiphóné, vengeance itself. She would go out and find justice through wrath.

Together, they would be called the Furies, who had come into the world through the death of Ouranos. They served only their desires. There was no king for them to recognize. No power could place a hold on them, yet.

Some might say they were the unorthodox children of Ouranos and the Fates, serving as a perverse reflection of the pure daughters of Nyx. Perhaps they existed as revenge for the Fates harming Ouranos. They may have been born of Ouranos' spirit of rage at his moment of death with his ichor as the medium for arrival.

Rage was their first collectively shared sensation. These three sisters craved justice for their father's death. The retributional desire burned in their very veins. Resonation welled within them from a single pulse until that feeling pushed them forward to fulfill that crusade.

Luck was their confederate on this day, for their father's murderer walked in the Mortal Realm of Greece, and they would be granted their righteous requital as repayment for the murder of Ouranos.

**********

Despite his best effort, the decision of Hades' fate was not an easy one to make for the Titan King; as such, the matter remained unsettled for him.

To clear his head, Cronos ventured into the lands of Greece. Though he ruled over the luscious green domain, his mind was preoccupied by the potential consequences of devouring his own son.

His circumstances would have been so easy if Ouranos' throne had gone to Crius or Hyperion instead of him. Wishing for that possibility was fruitless though. The more he thought about it, the more Cronos realized that he was meant to rule. Hyperion was never around, in love with both Theia and his pilgrimages to other lands. Crius had become a recluse in the aftermath of the wounds inflicted upon him by their father. If Crius had ever been meant to rule, it was before Ouranos maimed his own son from hands to elbows.

Cronos had to be the Ruler. He was the only one who possessed the power to command the respect of his siblings while also having the focus to care for the Realm.

Careful stewardship of Greece over the years had left little for Cronos to manage on a day to day basis. He worked to ensure no one became too possessive of their area of the realm. Sometimes, the Titan King was required to be an arbiter in those situations. Gaia had produced other beings (as she was as fertile as the lands); Pontus was one such being. Gaia could not tell if Ouranos' diluted blood in the water made Pontus or if it were her tears of mourning her husband's death. Pontus emerged from the sea as its pure manifestation. Because of his possessive nature over the waters, a clash with Oceanus was inevitable.

Cronos established that even if Pontus was the ocean, Oceanus ruled it. Arbitrating a peaceful arrangement between the two powerful beings was Cronos' job. As more creations came into the world, he wondered what other mediations he would have.

That was one of the beautiful qualities of life that Cronos knew his brother Iapetus adored about Greece. Iapetus' childlike fascination was something Cronos could almost find contagious.

With so many possibilities and potentialities, the Titan King contemplated his own choices recently. His ponderings fell to the only person that dominated his mind: Hades.

No matter the decisions made in the past and as a father, Cronos knew that it would be wrong for Cronos to steal the chance at life from Hades. Even if the small deity did not die in his stomach, the Titan knew that existing in a belly was not living a life with all of the wonders that life had to offer.

This injustice made him envision the prospect he might not have even dreamed of let alone a month ago. To give the throne to his son would solve this predicament for him. Cronos could raise his son to be better than himself. To think of his own rearing by the Primordial King, there were parts of him that understood that he could be a better parent than his father.

No! Cronos thought, shaking his head.

He would be a better father to Hades than Ouranos was to him.

With his thoughts on family, past failure and potential future successes, he was distracted from the going ons of the area around him. Three shadowy figures were flying towards him entirely unbeknownst to him.

Their hateful gazes found him with a hunger born of malevolence.

They flew down and struck at him without fear or concern. Before he could so much as throw up his large hands to defend himself, their blows landed true. They were hacking, slashing, and slicing at his skin without guarding to protect their persons. Flesh tore open and ichor ran down his face from the cut.

They moved to his left shoulder. Their second attack was not deep enough to break his skin, but it was enough to capture his attention.

Cronos turned to see his attackers. The Three Furies flew around the gargantuan Titan like gnats before a man.

They were all winged creatures. Their hands were sharper than Cronos' scythe. One of them had claws coming from her back. Cronos was taken aback by the throbbing pain at the side of his head. He could feel the warm liquid dripping down his face. When he brushed at it, his fingers were covered in reddish gold ichor.

He looked up to see these three terrible women and growled, "Have you come in a new visage, Sisters of Fate?"

"Do you hear that, Sisters?" the center figured guffawed. His ignorance brought her more joy than anything else in her life. "He thinks we're the ones who look through time!"

The other two let out long bursts of laughter. "Of course he does, Megaera," said the hooded one. "His success blinds him. He believes the old powers are the only ones that matter."

"Too true, Tisiphóné," added the last. Even as they spoke, the sisters started to spread out, making it as difficult as possible for Cronos to harm them

Megaera laughed out, "He is a foolish King, Alecto."

Drawn by the ancient blood of their Primordial father, and their eternal duty to punish those who transgressed, they descended upon Greece's first murderer like avenging shadows. A sudden gust of wind rattled the trees from the powerfully quick movements of their wings. Overhead, dark storm clouds started to gather. Whether the menacing skies reflected their wrath, or were a sign that the late Ouranos approved of their retribution, was irrelevant; the heavens prepared for an onslaught.

Cronos batted at the smaller beings, unable to harm them, his powerful hands could not stop their precise attack. In his larger form, his body was not controlled enough to halt their vindictively accurate blows all over him.

Though Cronos struggled to keep them in sight, their eyes were not as limited and entirely capable of tracking him. They would not lose sight of his colossal form, for their vision blazed with an intensity that matched the flames of Tartarus. The Furies were newer to the world than Cronos, but they were not children. Further still, they were empowered by the ancient ichor of a Primordial and righteous retribution for his demise. This propelled them to be relentless against the one who had caused the downfall of their shared father, Ouranos.

Their voices resonated with enraged pain and rose in unison. The time between their birth (which also coincided with the death and Ouranos) and this very battle, their outrage had only grown rather than shrink.

"Cronos! Murderer! Usurper of divine power! Overthrower of Ouranos!"

Each declaration was an indictment of his crimes. They were not from a civilized Olympus; they had known only ichor and death since birth. Survival had been fought for everyday of their existence. And so, these charges would be answered only one way.

How dare these winged creatures remind Cronos of his debaucherous, rapist of a father.

"We are the Furies!" They cried in unison. "We have come for your ichor. We have come... for justice!"

Their voices echoed through the air. The forceful cadence of their voices together rang in Cronos' head.

Cronos could say nothing in response. He was too busy batting them away, helpless to their accusations. That did not prevent him of feeling an irritation that would grow into a rage of his own.

They did not recognize his antagonized indignation. They had a higher purpose than to consider his feelings. Their righteous revenge fueled them to pressed on. Their voices echoed throughout the Mortal Realm.

"You slayed our father, Ouranos, to claim dominion over Olympus!" Megaera roared as leader of the trio. "How dare you!"

Cronos would not tolerate being insulted for his actions against his father. He had been defending his honor and removing a selfish thief from the world. There had been no wrongness in his actions, so he stood tall, regaining himself. As he held out his hand, the diamond-edged scythe that slew Ouranos manifested itself into it.

"I am Cronos!" He declared with finality. "Ruler of Olympus! I did what needed doing! I will not regret my actions!"

With a swing of his powerful weapon, a wind was summoned in its wake, and the Furies were blown back. The strike did not need to harm the flying nuisances because the wind did the worked of knocking them off balance for hom.

In their flustered confusion, Cronos saw his opportunity to press his advantage. He struck once more. Alecto and Megaera were lucky to be just out of the reach of his blade and avoid any damage to their person.

Tisiphóné was not nearly so fortuitous as she was hit on the back by the tip of the scythe. The blow sliced off the tops of her wings, causing her to spin out of control.

Time had a unique quality to it in those moments. For Cronos, it was quick in his triumph. For the Furies, it was slowed in their harrowing horror.

Megaera and Alecto lost all of their anger. No longer did they so much as consider attacking Cronos. Their shared and individual focuses were for their wounded sister. Both flew down in a rush to try and save their sister.

The Furies might relentlessly pursue justice, but their love for one another had always, and would always, take priority before anything else.

Cronos was unaware of this sisterly affection for one another, but since he had an advantage, he chased them down. He raised his hand to crush the miniscule beings that had stood against me.

"Stop!" cried the two uninjured Furies.

They raised their hands in surrender. The belief that he would halt was all they had as they tried to protect their injured sister. In a Realm of Titans, Primordials, and young gods, these three had always had each other.

Cronos slowed but did not halt his attack. Their weakness only encouraged him to finish them, as he had with Ouranos. Mercy and empathy were shortcomings to him that would make him lose all that he had won.

"We apologize, King Cronos!" Megaera pleaded in earnest.

She looked to Alecto, who was focused on Tisiphóné's injuries, before returning her gaze to the gigantic being. She had an honest pleading in her eyes that told Cronos she truly cared more for her sibling than some obscure vengeance against him.

"Spare our sister," Megaera cried out in a beseeching manner, "and we will leave you in peace."

"Why should I show this kindness?" Cronos exclaimed. "You and your sisters will come and harm me when you are well once more!"

Megaera looked to Alecto and Tisiphóné. The pathetic look on the injured sister told Meg all she needed to know of her commitment to Meg's plan. Alecto snapped her teeth, but in the end, she gave a deferential shrug to Megaera as if to say, "Oh very well."

"We will give our bond, as Spirits of Justice, to serve Olympus and only hunt those that break their oaths," Megaera swore.

As one who loathed oath breakers, such as Cronos in his act of patricide, Megaera placed a lot of importance on one's word.

Cronos paused. The slow realization that harming one was enough to subdue them all hit him harder than it should have. Those three female warriors had more loyalty for one another than his family had ever given to him.

He always had to be giving to someone. He had to be the good son, the good brother, the righteous husband. If he crossed some moral line, they would not stand by him. He needed to play their games to be worth caring for.

At that moment, as he had with Hades, Cronos had a choice about the Furies. He could destroy them or show mercy. To be merciful was weakness itself. However, he questioned if he could punish beings for loyalty to one another.

Loyalty was all he had ever wanted from his Titan siblings, from Rhea, from his mother and father. He was, after all, the one to depose Ouranos in a show of misplaced loyalty to Rhea.

Would it be so terrible to give them the decency he had been denied?

Lifting his scythe away from the Furies, he looked at them coldly.

"Go! Begone from my sight. Go hunt your oathbreakers, but so long as I am King, leave me alone!"

A glint reached Alecto's eyes, and she bowed her head, motioning for Megaera to do the same. Together, they replied, "Yes, Majesty!"

**********

Rhea could hear Cronos' return to Olympus from the lower dominion where animals lived, rivers flowed, and Titans roamed.

With so little was going her way, she was beginning to think the Fates' prophecy was complete nonsense. She might have to consider letting it all go. From Cronos to his siblings, there was very little Rhea could do to stop Cronos herself. Gaia was next to useless. She would need powerful allies or children in her plan. With no one by her side, there was nothing to be done.

A separate part of her considered different options. She could go to other lands, but the divinities of those lands were not as developed as them, no matter what stories Hyperion brought back of their unique splendor.

She had to use her wits if she was to make a difference in the reign of Cronos.

Upon entering the Throne Room, she could see her husband bruised, battered, and leaking ichor, but undaunted.

"Cronos!" Rhea wailed. While she was surprised by his appearance, her cry was not one of concern for his well being. "What happened to you?"

"It would seem our father left me a gift in the Realm after his demise," Cronos spat.

From his angry answer, it was evident that he believed his wife would be pleased that her lover had found a way to harm Cronos even from the afterlife. Still, after four children, after being married to Rhea, after trapping her on Olympus, Rhea recognized that Cronos still lived in the shadow of the Last Primordial.

Rhea looked at him, visibly shocked. In her heart, she had wished that the gift (whatever it had been) had taken him out just as he had taken out her great love. That would make all of her goals easier.

She walked quickly towards her husband to better inspect the damage that had been inflicted upon him. Because of his magically enhanced stature, she was forced to grow to better

"But you survived," Rhea commented sympathetically.

No matter her private desires, Rhea would not allow Cronos (or anyone else for that matter) to see beneath the armor that she had carefully crafted to appear a loving wife. For all intents and purposes, she would be the perfect Queen of Olympus.

"I was victorious," Cronos cried. "Nothing will take Olympus from me. Neither the Furies, nor the Fates."

She did not know what had attacked him or who the Furies were, but Rhea recognized something had changed within Cronos. Her mind raced for a moment, considering what she knew of him and what she had observed in the moment and of her husband's past experiences.

Rhea's eyes lit up as she put all the pieces of the puzzle together and saw his weakness. Cronos' deficiency was not a physical frailty but a mental one, which would prove Gaia's assessment of her son to be wrong.

The look in her eyes changed when she lifted her dress slightly to test her theory.

"You are right, my husband," she said. A sultry layer of affection coated her words. "No one will take your throne. You can overcome any threat to it."

Regardless if she were right or not, Rhea was no longer in a room with Cronos. She was with Ouranos once more. In her mind, she was with the one being who could claim her so entirely and leave nothing left of her.

Cronos looked up to see the seductive look in his wife's eyes. He was unaccustomed to Rhea being carnally forward.

"No?"

He asked the question with suspicion over his wife's actions.

"Of course not," Rhea said, straddling her husband's lap.

She brushed her hand over his face and wounds. With the magical power she had at her command, her touch slowly healed them.

"You're King on Olympus, vanquisher of Ouranos, ruler of the Titans," she declared with supportive inflections.

She kissed him on the lips with a loving affection that he had never known from her. Her hands ran from his face down to his neck, shoulders, before finally settling on his hairy, yet muscled, chest.

"Even if these 'Furies' hurt you," she said with greater affection, "I am certain you paid them back threefold. They were never going to be a match for you. The Fates are wrong. No offspring of yours could harm you."

The words were easy enough to come out even if Rhea did not know the Furies. In fact, she was not sure what they had to do with the Fates. What mattered was that Cronos was coddled. That was what he needed. His precious ego needed to be petted.

When she shifted to allow the head of his member to graze her warm, moist femininity, she could see Cronos struggle for control of himself. There it was; she was his great weakness. She could not understand how she had not seen it before. Through this truth, there was her freedom.

He was her captor, and his desires could be her liberator.

Rhea realized that she might be his downfall if he could lose control of himself at her hands. Through this lascivious appetite, he could also lose control of Olympus.

It was in this that Rhea found the freedom and joy that she had long since been looking for. In this small moment, there was an outwardly silent, yet internally raucous joy, to be had for Rhea.

This made her all too aware that he must have enemies. He was not invincible. He could fall even if Gaia did not want to help Rhea.

Cronos, for his part, did not understand what Rhea was doing. He was lost to her actions, unable to help himself. The contact of his wife's thighs against his manhood was inspiration itself. How could he not surrender to the pleasure?

Rhea kissed her husband's neck as she ran her hands over his chest.

"You deserve your throne, my King. No one has the right to take this from you."

"No..." Cronos moaned.

So lost was Cronos in her, that he was incapable of witnessing the fact that she did not look at him with the eyes of a lover. For Cronos, she had nothing but disdain. Her love was for the Primordial King that he would never be

"You deserve everything in the cosmos," Rhea cooed into his ears, slowly moving her hips so that the head of his maleness nestled between her womanly lips.

She kissed his neck and ran her hands from his chest to his shoulders before going up and down her back.

"I do," Cronos groaned out. He could feel himself being pulled into Rhea, inch by inch, as she slowly, deliberately, sank onto his shaft. As she began to ride him, circling her hips as she moved up and down. Cronos felt her grip and shuddered at the intense sensation

Seeing his reaction, Rhea freed her breasts for her husband's view, and Cronos cupped them greedily. She moaned out her pleasure, for it was not his hands on her, but the first male to touch her.

"By Chaos... this is so fucking good."

Rhea kissed her husband fiercely. "Yes, it is, my King. And I am yours to take! It's all yours," she hissed into his ear.

Cronos, so lost in his lust, submitted to the passion. "Yes! Yes, it is!"

"Then take it!" Rhea screamed.

As she envisioned the future, she grew increasingly aroused. She could imagine it, a future where Cronos was undone. He would forge his own enemy. With every thrust, Rhea's longing grew, and with it came her climax. She wanted revenge for the loss of Ouranos, and through Cronos, she would have it. Cronos, for all of his desires, was blind to her plan.

Rhea watched Cronos as he quickly built to an explosive climax, and when she knew that he could not last any longer, she rode him skillfully to a second orgasm for herself. He would never knowingly be able to please her the way her fantasies of his downfall did. Kissing her husband, Rhea smiled. "Thank you, my King." Climbing off him, she sauntered away with a smile, which Cronos attributed to his prowess.

Rhea dreamed of the joy of the future. She saw what both Cronos and Gaia missed. Rhea did not need the gift of foresight, only a mind that could think critically. She knew what seed she planted and what he would do; with time, she would birth the son she craved.

**********

In the dead of night on Olympus, after Rhea's carnal pleasing of him, one would think that Cronos would have no care in the world.

However, they would be wrong.

If his trek in the mortal Realm had taught him any single lesson, it was that he could lose everything he had gained after defeating Ouranos. This included his life. If that were to happen, what was it all for?

He would have vanquished the Primordial King for nothing. He would have allowed another man to steal his prize of his wife's sex without retribution. He would have marked his hands with the innocence of Aether for nothing.

Cronos looked down upon his progeny when he was in the nursery.

Hades could grow up and make Cronos proud. He could rise up and prove himself to be more powerful than Cronos, and Cronos would gladly step aside for Hades to have the throne. In that particular future, Cronos could retire, maybe to Gaia's island with Rhea. There he could make love on the beach, under the trees, and Hades could come to them for advice. When he did, they could lovingly give him counsel, so he could be a ruler worthy of Olympus for the rest of time.

In spite of how healthy that prospect might be, that was not the future Cronos would allow to pass.

While most living beings slept under Nyx's sky, Cronos would make choices to decide the course of all.

He properly inspected his son. He recognized that Hades was his spitting image in miniature form. When he considered that future, he could see that if the child was allowed to grow, he could present a challenge to him just as Cronos had presented a challenge to Ouranos.

If Cronos lost his throne, Rhea's desire would wane, and might even transfer to his offspring. He might be forgotten by his Titan siblings. All that he had brought forth into existence would mean nothing. After what he had done, even Cronos could see that he was a monster in comparison to the rest of his family. Without the crown, he would be an outcast. Without the crown, Cronos was nothing.

That was not an outcome that Cronos would allow to come to pass.

Looking upon the tiny being one last time, imprinting the child into his memory forevermore, he lifted the infant into his hands and raised him into the air. There was only a moment's pause before Cronos dropped the minuscule creature into his mouth. He did not bite, chew, or even taste the child. It was a simple matter to just swallow the baby whole.

Hades might have been the first of his own children that the Titan King ate, but he would not be the last.

**********

Chapter 7: The Titans' Legacy

"Change is the only constant in life."

— Heraclitus of Ephesus, Fragments, c. 500 BCE. © Public Domain.

The little baby Poseidon was much more aware than his female siblings; additionally, he was blessed with a beacon of divine light to show his superiority. He had some understanding of who and where he was upon his birth.

He grasped that Rhea was his mother, and the Mad King Cronos was his father. While there were other Titans and Primordials in existence, Poseidon could not observe them because they were not on Olympus at the time of his birth. The baby's perceptions were limited to his immediate surroundings at the time.

When he was swallowed and fell into the depths of Cronos' stomach, he landed on some sort of solid ground.

"W-Where...?" The child struggled with words. He was new to the world, after all, but he was nevertheless divine, pure and true.

"You are in a place bereft of hope," a deep, booming voice echoed.

The utterance came from the shadows of the abyss that Poseidon currently found himself in.

The infant Poseidon looked around in confusion. He could see the stomach acid around the ground from where he stood. There were dissolving food bits being digested. That was not the direction of the voice though.

He turned towards the pronouncement. At first, he could see nothing but a black void of nothingness. From those shadows, a tall, strong being came into sight. He had long black hair and unhealed scars along his body and face. It was as if he had been burnt, cut, and bled, but failed to heal repeatedly..

"You are no doubt curious about what you will find in this place," the man with the ominous voice said to Poseidon. "I am your brother, Hades. And here, in Cronos' belly, you will only find ichor; ichor and darkness."

**********

In the years since his brothers' meeting, Iapetus was learning that perhaps the fact that beings lived and died was not so terrible. If all life went on forever, then there was little meaning to existence because the essence of creation would stay the same and stagnate. Through death, a certain evolution was not only possible but expedient.

With Ouranos' slaying, Cronos became King. After he became King, the other Titans had fallen into their own order underneath the Titan King. In that order, they felt comfortable having offspring.

At first, Iapetus was not among those Titans. His contemplations had made him an outcast, but in recent times, he was no longer so alone. He had found love with one of Oceanus' children: Clymene.

Even with his amorous affection built with his wife, this did not stop Iapetus from his quiet ponderings.

By Iapetus' estimation, time on Olympus seemed to slow. While Cronos, Rhea, and the palace stayed the same, the Realm of Greece continued to progress. What might have been five years on Olympus was nearly a century in the Mortal Realm.

That was what it was: mortal. That was part of the beauty that Iapetus had been looking for in his years of racking his own mind.

He was coming to realize that the changes in Greece were the point to life. Well, at least for now and for him. He was certain in the centuries to come, life would have a different meaning for other beings, but that was for the introspective of tomorrow to discover. He had his answer for existence, and with it, there came a particular peace that only he could appreciate.

Spring came, and life was abundant, if not tenuously existing by Iapetus' estimation with Cronos eating his sons. In summer, life was running rampant, enjoying the ample heat of Helios' light. But the weather always cooled a little less than spring before returning.

There was something else, something felt off, as if an entire season or two was missing.

Helios, a new divinity made by Hyperion and Theia, sat in the sky as a light for all to bask in.

Hyperion had taken the primordial flame from the sky and brought this celestial blaze to Cronos as a gift. This fire was supposed to have been blessed by Chaos to hold the power from the dawn of creation where the five Primordials had been made. This was before even time yet truly existed.

It burned with a resplendence that reflected its unique origin, giving life and warmth to any who sojourned to the godly mountain. Though, with how Cronos devoured his children, this treasure could hardly be appreciated. In Iapetus' mind, it was a surprise that anyone visited. In Iapetus' view, Cronos would be a problem sooner rather than later.

Greece was filled with nymphs: both of the dryads and naiad variety.

Iapetus had found his wife Clymene from these new subsets of life forms. She was both a naiad and a daughter to Oceanus and Tethys.

Iapetus could not fully understand love and its connections because of how his mind worked. Perhaps, Oceanus had seen Iapetus' loneliness and had encouraged his daughter to seek Iapetus out. Regardless as to why, the love of Clymene had brought Iapetus a happiness that reduced his former loneliness to a laughable memory.

Together, Iapetus and Clymene created four children. It was among these children that the twins, Prometheus and Epimetheus, came to be.

The Titanic children were unique among divine beings. It was these twins who filled the lands of Greece with even more new life. Where divine beings were born through a sexual union, Iapetus' sons created life with materials from Greece, fueled by their imagination, and empowered by their magic. With every creation, they were more efficient and creative.

Through cattle and bison, there was a new type of food. With birds and fish, there was diversity. When any of the Titans flew or swam, they could have company. Each addition to the world made Iapetus beam with pride in his sons. On the other hand, he was worried they might be overfilling the world. Epimetheus and Prometheus told him of their grand finale of life that they wanted to create.

It was these lesser beings, humanity, that had Iapetus pondering the future.

His sons spoke of a perfect creation in the image of the Titans themselves, but without the divine spark from the Progenitor or the use of magic.

The only problem Iapetus had was: If these mortal humans were made, what would be the roles of the Titans?

With everything else occurring, Iapetus considered if the day would come when humanity overthrew the Titans, as Cronos overthrew Ouranos. He was distracted by Selene, Hyperion's daughter, rising in the night sky as the moon, to shine light on the Realm.

He did not know what tomorrow would bring, yet he could not bring himself to become overly concerned. There was too much joy in his life today, for him to care about the problems of tomorrow.

**********

Rhea got up from her throne; her bulging abdomen told of yet another royal child of Olympus was ready to be brought into the world. It seemed strange to her that while she was the daughter of the most fertile being in creation, Rhea had only had seven pregnancies. The other Titan couples had dozens of children and a multitude of grandchildren by extension.

She could not dwell on the subject for long as the aforementioned fertility deity suddenly appeared in her private throne room.

"Mother Gaia," Rhea said in surprise.

"Hello to you as well, Queen Rhea," Gaia smiled.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Rhea asked.

Rhea held back her emotion. When they had last had a private conversation, a lot had been left to be desired.

"Since we last spoke, it has become clear that Cronos will continue to devour his children, and he might fall into deeper depravities," Gaia said with calm wisdom. "I think it's best I should help you."

"Oh?" Rhea asked, antagonizing anger overtaking her.

Despite hearing what she had longed to hear two pregnancies earlier, there was no joy in Gaia's statement. There was an indescribable feeling of smug satisfaction mixed with a wrathful indignation.

She truly tried to restrain her temper, but to hear that her mother finally understood was a brick of clay slammed atop the straws that would break the horse's back.

"Now!" Rhea exclaimed, standing up to the Primordial Queen. "When you see the consequences of your choices, you want to help me!"

Rhea could not hold back the vitriolic loathing she felt for her mother. Gaia was lauded amongst the younger immortals as the wise mother and grandmother to be sought out when they needed advice. She was placed in a position of honor, but when Rhea had come to her, practically begging, Gaia had become blind because Cronos was her son.

"Daughter... do not take that tone with me!" Gaia warned.

"I was right!" Rhea exclaimed. Vindication exploded from each word announced.

While discretion was a quality expected in a ruler, Rhea had no time for niceties. Her suffering had been endured for nothing, and she would be sure that the Primordial Queen understood the cost of her decisions. Rhea had needlessly suffered for years with a Titan who cared only for himself.

Gaia tried to hush Rhea, but the current Queen of Olympus would not be silent for her mother.

"He is not here. He is with Crius, discussing how the Realm flourishes, not that I get to see the Realm. He believes if I leave, I might conspire with his brothers to overthrow him. For that risk, he imprisons me, but you saw fit to do nothing about my imprisonment."

Gaia nodded at the accusation laid at her feet, but she did not address it directly. "And yet, he allows you to be alone with me?" she wondered instead,

"You put him on this throne, just as Chaos put our father here," Rhea said, waving it away. "He believes you are loyal to him."

"One act makes him believe I do not recognize the danger he presents?" Gaia asked, disturbed by that conclusion.

"We will have to use that blindness to our advantage," Rhea remarked strategically. In her reply, Rhea came to a sad realization about her mother. Gaia would not admit the fault was hers and fully apologize. If Rhea wanted her mother to help further her goals, she herself would have to be the one to let things go.

Gaia nodded in agreement. "You're right. But how, considering he devours his children?"

"With Hera, I had been perfecting some of my magic," Rhea admitted. "With the right timing and blessings from you, we could hide my next child."

"To what end?" Gaia asked. She could not connect the dots that Rhea saw so easily.

"For you to train him," Rhea said definitely.

This was the only positive outcome from Gaia's previous indecision. Rhea had an abundance of time on her hands to consider the path forward. She had calculated every angle of choosing an heir and what that might require without the assistance of her mother. In this small way, even if Gaia believed herself to be the one navigating the two, Rhea knew better.

"This next child could break the cycle of usurpation," Rhea went on. "If we teach him to be fair, not to murder his family, and understand what it means to rule, he will defeat Cronos and be better."

Gaia looked at and listened to her daughter. In the Titan Queen's piercing gaze and weighty words, the Primordial Queen understood the depths of the importance that this matter had for Rhea. She contemplated what Rhea's plan might entail, how long Rhea had deliberated about it, and if the plan would work. What was almost depressing was that in those moments, she understood that her daughter was right.

With that knowledge in mind, Gaia considered what advantages they would have in this situation. Once the subterfuge began, there would be no turning back.

Cronos did not invade Gaia's privacy, which was useful, but the two queens might need outside help.

"I do not know if that will be the end of it," Gaia remarked. She contemplated her daughter's plan, seeing the insight that Rhea had put into it. "We will need someone to help us."

"Who?" Rhea asked, suspicious of her mother's intentions.

"Leave that to me," Gaia implored. "With time, we might be able to put your plan into motion."

When she saw that Rhea might object, Gaia halted her with a hand.

"Wait," Gaia said. "I will return to you."

Rhea could see her mother was asking for trust. That was a luxurious commodity that the Primordial sought, but both queens were quickly realizing that they could not complete the tasks ahead without one another.

With that in mind, Rhea said, "Make it fast. Cronos intends to eat this next child very soon after his birth."

"Why?" Gaia asked, suspicious of the explanation.

"There was a thunderstorm. Cronos believes Ouranos might be able to reach out from the dead. He thinks the storm was an omen sent to defeat him," Rhea said, as if Cronos were insane.

Gaia exhaled slowly then the mother of the Titans nodded in reluctant agreement about the degradation of Cronos' sanity.

"I will return before the birth."

**********

Poseidon and Hades grew older within the belly of Cronos despite Cronos' initial hope of them staying as children within the cavern that was his stomach. Because of Poseidon and Hades' divinity, Cronos could no longer assume his smaller form. If he did, his sons would burst free from within him. The Titan King had the intelligence not to risk such a thing.

The siblings had very different views. Poseidon made a makeshift board to ride the waves of Cronos' stomach acid. He laughed at his gloomy brother.

"Come now, Hades! It's not so bad. These waters are full of life!" He remarked, landing on the small island where he and Hades had made a home for themselves.

They sustained themselves on some of the food the Titan King ate. Whenever ambrosia fell into Cronos' stomach, it turned into light and was absorbed by his very essence, so the divine sons never had the chance to partake of such a luxury. But when Cronos ate fish, deer, or had wine, the sons made short work of catching some of their father's meals before the digestive nature of his body took over.

"It is filled with death," Hades said coldly. Despite what Poseidon believed of his brother, he knew that Hades found his bright happiness to be trivial, and his free and easy speech to be childish. That never stopped Poseidon from trying to raise his brother's spirits, even when Hades was sitting on the island's darker side within Cronos. "All there is in this world is blood and darkness."

"You have been all doom and gloom since my childhood, but there is still joy to be found. Someone will try to free us," Poseidon remarked with lighthearted, infectious fun.

"Free us?" Hades exclaimed, looking back at his brother. "Who would free us? Our mother allows our insane father to eat us! You told me as much. And what of our aunts and uncles? I can sense them sometimes, as well as you do! And what do they do?"

Poseidon did not say anything to the interrogation.

"Exactly! They do nothing for us! We will live our everlasting lives here! Maybe, like our brother, Aether, our divine spirits will dwindle until we are destroyed, and our bodies will become part of this island only to raise the next set of siblings that Father consumes."

"I can't live with that kind of sorrow," Poseidon replied after a moment. Though he seemed uncertain, Poseidon would never stop trying to cheer up his elder brother.

"Then you will die with it," Hades remarked in his dark, sullen portion of Cronos.

**********

The same Cronos, who had two of his sons in his stomach, sat in the Mortal Realm of Greece, trying to think. Despite the attack from the Furies a few years back, Cronos felt he could think best in the lands of Greece. The crisp salt water, trees rustling in the breeze, wheat ripening (reminding Cronos of the time he grew food as Greece's first farmer), and the blades of grass growing, were all combined into a soothing symphony to relax his senses.

Any day now, Rhea would deliver another son. It was almost unimaginable, what he had chosen to give up, but there was no going back now. Hades was in his belly, and if the Fates were to be believed, this locked him into a path that he could no longer stray from.

If he were made of sterner material, he might have sought the Fates out once more to find out if there was a way to avoid their prophecy. In his heart of hearts though, he knew what he had done was irrevocable. Seeking those maidens out would do him no good. In fact, a deep suspicion welled within him that relying on the Fates was what brought Ouranos down.

Maybe if Cronos had given up his seat of power to Hades, the curse would have been broken, but Cronos would not concede his prize. He would rule as long as he wanted, taking his revenge on Ouranos for having Rhea.

Sitting on the cliff above where he had castrated his father, and later battled the Furies, Cronos stared at the world. He hoped it would give him an answer.

What he was given was not what he expected and all he feared.

"How did I lose to someone so weak?" The voice of Ouranos crackled from the heavens above.

Cronos stood, seeing a mirage of his father made of clouds. The image, for all of its details, stopped just above the waist.

"No! You're dead!" Cronos exclaimed.

Cronos blanched at the phantasm in disgusted horror. In his repugnance, he stepped back about half a pace.

Though he was King, had fathered five children with Rhea, and all bowed to his authority, he felt immediately inferior. He had ruled with power and might, but somehow, his father's visage returned Cronos to his childhood.

"I killed you myself!"

"You did," Ouranos replied without worry or fear. "After Hyperion and Crius weakened me," he went on with a laugh. "Had you faced me alone, with your little tool, you would have fallen and I would have had Rhea again."

"No!" Cronos exclaimed.

With his immense control of temporal events, Cronos tried to slow time, but his father's ghost merely laughed at the effort. Images swirled before Cronos in a vision: Rhea's naked body splayed out on the floor within the throne room of Olympus. Regardless of what was true or not, her lips were willingly given to Ouranos. Even Cronos was capable of observing the difference between Rhea's love for Ouranos and Cronos.

Cronos stared at the horrendous scene in a state of powerlessness. A part of him was curious as he worried this was a vision of the past. Another part thought he was simply going insane.

Seeing Rhea take Ouranos' manhood into her mouth with excited anticipation did not inform Cronos as to its authenticity. But from the sparkle in her eyes, she burned to feel Ouranos's sex within her body, however she could have it. She wanted him inside of her, even if it meant cheating Cronos of his prize of Rhea's virginity.

Cronos rapidly became enraged by what he saw. Power coalesced into his hand until Cronos threw a pulse of energy at the cloudy visage. The bolt flew through the images, harming nothing.

The manifestation continued playing out before him, Rhea gasping in ecstasy from Ouranos' touching of her body, begging with her eyes for Ouranos to take her. She was pleading with joy; her orgasm was mounting by the second from the merest touch of her father's hand between her legs, and she was desperate for Ouranos, in whatever form she could get him.

Withdrawing his cock from her mouth, he refused her the joining of their bodies in full carnal bliss, but Rhea would not be denied in her fervent need. She climbed her father, making her intentions crystal clear. When she wrapped her legs around him, Ouranos was pulled closer, Rhea taking him as deeply as possible. She cried out, "Yes! Yes!"

Powerless to destroy the clouds, Cronos shouted, "I killed you!"

"That won't prevent her from being taken by another lover. It will not stop you from losing your throne," Ouranos laughed at the impotent rage, "or you from becoming like me. This will not keep you from losing Rhea."

Cronos exploded at his deceased father. "Olympus is mine!"

There was not a single drop of fear on Ouranos' face. "For now," Ouranos taunted.

The image of Rhea with Ouranos suddenly shifted. The clouds swirled and dissipated until it reformed into new imagery.

Cronos could see a younger deity with Rhea, who was slightly older than before but still a vision of beauty and grace, befitting a Queen of Olympus. She laid on her back for this young, powerful sky god. There was thunder in his eyes, and he looked into hers with fervent passion.

"You will give me Olympus?" This god asked. He rutted himself into her with animalistic intent. Where Cronos had loved Rhea, this god saw her as a means to an end. By outward appearances, she was content to be someone's tool for success.

She was screaming out, "Yes! Yes! You will be King! Fuck!"

The unspoken comparison of Cronos's sexual prowess versus this younger male did not need to be voiced. As Cronos watched his wife intently, Rhea gave this young god more than her sex. There was a surrender that superseded her affection for either Cronos or Ouranos.

Cronos balled his fist, but as he was about to throw another bolt of power, Rhea screamed, "Another one? That's four times! Fuck!"

She clawed the young deity's back, and he grabbed her hips. "Who do you belong to? Who is King?" The powerfully intense slamming of his body into hers was possessive in totality.

"You!" Rhea proclaimed as she surrendered to a guttural scream of pleasure. Her single word was as binding as magic itself.

That was enough for this newcomer. He gripped her hips and pulled her onto him, ensuring his divine seed would go as deeply into her as possible. She could get pregnant from this ejaculation, but that was not the point. His charged essence flooding into Rhea was this god's way proclaiming his ownership, to her, and to Cronos

Cronos would never allow this future to come to pass.

While he did not know where this vision came from. Perhaps, the Moirai had sent it, maybe even Chaos, and perhaps, it was just his worst fears made manifest, but Cronos knew, in his bones, that these events were a vision into the past and a premonition of some sort.

No... They would not come to pass.

**********

Chapter 8: The Descent of the Bloodline

"The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing."

— Socrates, as recorded by Plato in Apology (c. 399 BCE).

Hyperion had traveled the world, hearing many amazing tales in realms far and wide.

He met a divine being of war in a land called 'Midgard'. This warrior told of his father and his two brothers slaying their Progenitor. Hyperion shook his head at that turn of event. Never on Olympus or in Greece would a Titan, or their children, kill their Progenitor. Hyperion did enjoy the one called Týr, so the Titan invited the Aesir, by way of Týr, to Olympus. He genuinely hoped that he would come one day.

The lands of India and the Chinese Heaven had conflict after conflict. Though, by Hyperion's estimation, India did so just for sport, and for the bragging rights of being the strongest land. Chinese Heaven had only just found peace and separated gods from demons. Such a tenuous peace would not last. The two would inevitably fight again.

Egypt had its own issues. Hyperion had met a sun deity called Ra. His wise insights had given Hyperion much to think about when he visited. Ra had taught him that sometimes even the sun must dip itself into darkness to give the clarity of light. Though divine, Ra was not a perfect being. Hyperion had been a newcomer, yet he had been able to see the division and strife between the children Set and Osiris.

The insight from Ra was why Hyperion, creator of Greece's sun, was now in the Underworld, seeking the Fates. Hyperion had begun contemplating the future after the Titans had deposed their Sky Father and his newly crowned king of a brother began devouring his own children. His travels and experiences, contrasted with his own realm, led him to reflect on those other lands and divine beings more and more often.

Those lands were at the beginning of the shaping of everything. While so much outside the Realm of Greece was the same, there was also madness. It was also the strangest sensation. When Hyperion visited these other realms, his insight was able to solve the problems of those lands with the greatest of ease. When it came to his own family... Hyperion just could not.

Babylon had a King who slayed a ferocious beast called a dragon. If India's divine beings ever stopped battling each other or power and supremacy, there was cause for concerns. If those other Realms ever worked out their issues, they could prove problematic for Olympus. Somehow, Hyperion doubted this would happen. Still, with Crono's deranged rise to power, and the consumption of his children, Hyperion could see Olympus' instability.

What was the point of being Titans if they lost rule of their dominion to the outside world? After deposing Ouranos, Hyperion felt that Coeus was right, and the Titans owed it to Gaia, and by extension Chaos, to make Greece as magnificent as possible.

While walking through the dead lands, he saw the spectral form of Ouranos through the Underworld. Hyperion shivered at the ghost of his parent. The Titan of Light could never shake the memory of Cronos castrating their father. At that moment, Hyperion realized no matter how powerful he or Crius was, they could never be the Ruler over the Titans when Cronos had performed such a decisive act.

Upon climbing the steps in Tartarus, to the Temple dedicated to Sisters of Fate, Hyperion was careful upon entering the sacred abode. He was wondering if it were better if he called the Sisters the Moirai like their mother Nyx did.

He doubted that they cared for whatever name they were addressed by, as long as it was respectful. Hyperion returned to himself and glanced along the wall at a grand, beautifully woven tapestry. It showed the crowning of Ouranos by Chaos, images of Ouranos trying to harm the Fates, the Fates making a decree, and Ouranos falling to Cronos. Hyperion was awed by the astonishing work they had already accomplished and he saw that there would be more to come. As the divine threads shone, he saw his brother eating his own offspring in the tapestry. There was more that the Fates were working on, but for some reason, he could not identify what they were doing.

"Greetings, Hyperion, Lord of Light," Lachesis said.

"Moirai, Keepers of the Celestial Tapestry," Hyperion hailed with great deference to the power of the daughters of Nyx. If he learned anything from his travels, it was that respect should be given to those you want favors from. "I have come for your guidance in an unpredictable world."

"In what way?" Clothos questioned. She genuinely seemed confused by his request. "If there is something you wish to know, simply ask, Light Titan."

"What is to become of me and my brethren? What will become of the Titans under the reign of Cronos?"

"Under Cronos, you shall rise or fall, but you will do so together," Atropos said simply. She did not turn from her tasks of cutting and organizing the threads.

"Our weaving holds countless possibilities," Lachesis said as if contradicting her sister. She seemed upset by Atropos' flippancy. "The future is ever-changing. The choices made by beings like yourself shape the course of destiny."

"As with all beings, the path of the Titans comes with triumphs and failures," Atropos added. What you do and what you decide shall determine if your reigns shall last forever or if they shall be cut short like Ouranos. Your choices shall echo through eternity, Lord of Light."

"What of the other Realms? I have seen heavens at war, divinities battling one another, and Kings being crowned in other lands," Hyperion said. "What should happen if those Realms come into contact with ours?"

The Fates looked confused as if they had not considered such a possibility. The three Sisters held hands. Their eyes glowed, seeing the infinite possibilities of futures that Hyperion could not. Their faces reflected shock, awe, anger, sadness, and joy, and a tear rolled down all of their collective cheeks. Before too long, the three let go of one another.

"It is too much, dear Sister!" Clothos cried.

"So many gods! So much destruction," Lachesis agreed.

"That future is too great for us to see, for now, Hyperion," Atropos admitted. There may come a day when a great King arises on Olympus, one who can harness your great flame."

"The Flame of Olympus?" Hyperion inquired with surprise. "That's impossible. The Flame consumes all that it touches."

"That does not mean it will always be so," Lachesis countered. "With time, all things are possible."

"Then what should I do?" Hyperion probed. He recalled the chaotic nature of the other Realms. He yearned to make Greece a land of order.

"Be wise; support your King. Do all you can, and the day might come when a greater King may arise," Lachesis advised. She seemed to be lost in a nostalgic reminiscing of something that would be destroyed... or that was not yet in existence?

While he wanted to ask about the other king, the Titan of Light thought better of it. They had given him more consideration than he expected. Hyperion bowed low to continue his display of respect. "Thank you, Great Moirai," Hyperion said honestly. "For everything."

The Sisters of Fate waved him away. This Titan had received what he came for, and so, he left with that information in hand.

**********

Hyperion needed time to consider what he was told. This led to weeks passing by. Only when the birth of Cronos' new child approached, Hyperion asked for a meeting with his brother king.

In the golden light of his son, Hyperion met Cronos in a secluded glade in the Mortal Realm.

Cronos looked at Hyperion with a solemn expression.

With all Hyperion had heard about his brother's activities, he was not surprised that Cronos was starting to show signs of fraying. Actions toward his mother and their siblings in Tartarus aside, consuming three of his sons was by no means a mortal prospect. After all, it was Hyperion's opinion that there were universal truths that he had discovered on his travels.

One such truth was that all living beings had a conscience that made them regret any evil actions. Very few beings were devoid of goodness.

Cronos' eyes reflected the weight of his past mistakes. The rings around his eyes warned Hyperion that Cronos had not been sleeping.

"Brother," Cronos began, irritation oozing out. "Why have you called me here?"

"Cronos," Hyperion replied with patience. "I didn't know you had become so paranoid that you would be upset to hear my counsel."

"It is not your counsel which concerns me," Cronos replied. "Rhea is close to giving birth. I am concerned that you have come here to prevent me from eating the baby, should it be another son."

Hyperion bristled. Cronos had never been so obvious in his cannibalism. The nonchalance by which Cronos spoke worried the Titan of Light. "I cannot believe you mean to continue. This is not who you are."

"You might do the same if the Fates had predicted your downfall!" Cronos exclaimed.

And just like that, the insanity of his brother's actions made sense to Hyperion. He knew that his decision to meet with Cronos was the right one.

"I have an opinion on that score," Hyperion said diplomatically. "I have spoken with the Moirai."

Cronos raised an eyebrow. To seek the Sisters was a dangerous prospect. While on one hand, there was no law or decree from Cronos that his Titan siblings could not seek counsel from the Sisters of Fate. It caused a hesitant panic to run up Cronos' spine.

Had Hyperion gone there to try and defeat Cronos? Without surety of Hyperion's loyalty, Cronos looked at his brother with caution.

"And?" Cronos asked, prepared to summon his scythe. "What have the Fates said? Have they given another prophecy?"

With a grave nod, Hyperion replied, "They have warned that the destiny of Olympus could be in danger, but they also said our actions would determine whether we continued to rise in glory, or fall into oblivion."

Cronos furrowed his brow. "How does that help me?"

"Don't you see, Brother?" Hyperion asked, excited.

He could see it in Cronos' eyes. For the first time in recent memory, Cronos was in a position to listen, and Hyperion could dispense the wisdoms of their betters onto him, and the Titans would be saved forevermore.

"We decide our destiny. I believe it is our choices, not the Fates past prophecies that decide. I believe they are giving you a second chance. You do not need to continue consuming your children."

"Really?" Cronos asked, suspicion returning.

Hyperion hesitated. He might have said they controlled their own destinies, but he was guessing to a degree. "If you choose wisdom, I think we both know we can save our futures."

"Save?" Cronos wondered. "What would we need to save it from?"

"Well," Hyperion said with careful consideration, "the Fates had hinted at a ruler who might hold the key to restoring order to this Realm."

Cronos' eyes narrowed. Like that, all of his worst fears were confirmed in Hyperion's revelation. He did not allow his intentions to be revealed on his face. Instead, he hugged his brother with love.

"Thank you, brother," Cronos said. "Your counsel has made all the difference on this day."

Hyperion was grateful to help. "Of course, my brother and King. I think we can preserve the Titans forever more."

"I think we shall," the Titan King said, withholding his intentions. He knew how he would save them, but he knew his siblings would not agree. They wouldn't understand just yet, but when the time was right, he would explain it to them. Hyperion had given him the last piece to this puzzle.

**********

She could not understand how or why but when the day came for Rhea to give birth to her last son, Cronos was nowhere to be found. Little did Rhea know, fate had aligned for Cronos to head down to the mortal lands to speak with Hyperion. This little time that was bought for her would pay off one thousandfold until it altered the course of the divine.

Rhea gave birth to her son all alone. Taking her newborn son into her arms, and still out of breath from her labor, she looked around confused when Cronos did not immediately appear to devour her child.

Without knowing where her husband was, time was not her ally. She had to be quickly sure of their actions.

She could see in this small infant a power, unlike Cronos'. Her baby boy reminded her of Aether and Ouranos. Lightning crackled in his eyes, his hair was as white as clouds, and he felt weightless as if he had been blessed by Ouranos' sky itself.

Rhea immediately surmised what must be done; he had been born to her on an empty Olympus, and she alone could save her son. In this child, she had a champion who would overthrow Ouranos and overcome whatever cursed the Throne of Olympus.

She cradled her white-haired baby boy. Rhea knew she must act with haste. She tried to silence him, but the tiny creature would not be quiet for long. In her smaller, nearly six-foot form, Rhea ran carefully down the mountainside of Olympus, the exhaustion of birth overwhelmed by her instinct to protect her child.

There were places, secret places, Cronos could not see. There was a small cave. In her diminutive size, Rhea could probably fit another twenty or thirty people. If there were ever a time on Olympus to hide, she would go there. She bundled her baby in a white and golden cloth and put him into a makeshift crib made of rock and stone. Laying the child down, Rhea left, sealing the side of Olympus closed.

"Be safe, my little Zeus," Rhea whispered, naming her son.

There was a rumbling in the Mortal Realm below. Something was happening; Cronos must have been returning. Rhea ran back to the palace on Olympus, clutching a rock from the mountainside. She would need to hurry; there was not much time. Wrapping the rock in a blanket, she carefully used her magic on the stone so it looked like a sleeping baby. The magic was not perfect. Rhea had only been able to make an illusion, without as much substance as she would have liked, when Cronos arrived.

Cronos appeared in a flash of light moments after Rhea put the false baby Zeus into the crib. Cronos did not hesitate to push her out of the way, even though it was not necessary as Rhea stepped aside for him. At nearly eighty feet in height, Cronos' hand could have grabbed the room. Instead, with the dexterity of the divine, he picked up only the crib, faux-baby and all. After watching him drop the contents into his maw, Rhea was assured he would not be looking for her baby boy.

Rhea watched her husband turn from Olympus and howl his victory. What a worthless fool! How had he not seen through the deception? Soon, his throne would be lost to him.

In her palace room, Rhea cried loudly to ensure that Cronos could hear her grief. He would assume her wails were meant for her lost child. He would think she lamented another stolen son.

He could not have guessed that her life's work was taking form and she was overcome by the emotion, letting out maddening tears. She could see the end of it all, and there was nothing left to do but cry. Her knees gave out from under her and still the tears would not stop coming. She could not even laugh in her success. She banged her fists against the stone floor of Olympus. Rhea looked up and screamed, wishing the tears would stop, but they just kept coming.

When Zeus rose to power, much like when Cronos came for Ouranos, Rhea would do as Gaia did and side with the usurping son. When Cronos fell, Rhea would side with her son and make him a King befitting the blood of Ouranos.

**********

Epilogue: The Dawn of a New Era

"Each generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the one that went before it, and wiser than the one that comes after it."

— George Orwell, The Collected Essays, Journalism, and Letters of George Orwell, Vol. IV (1949). © Orwell Estate.

On a secluded island, embraced by the lush beauty of nature, Rhea arrived, looking for Gaia. Finally away from the watchful eye of her husband, Rhea smiled at her mother. In the Titan Queen's arms, there was a baby Zeus cradled in his blanket.

She hoped her son would change the very cosmos. The warm breeze gently caressed Rhea's face as she reached her Primordial Mother.

Her husband's fear of retribution would manifest on this island. Rhea and Gaia would see their plans come to fruition. For Gaia, his crime was eating his children. For Rhea, it was for deposing Ouranos.

They were both committed. Rhea had waited a long time, carrying, birthing, and secreting her child away were her parts of the quest. For Gaia, she would have the harder of the tasks.

Gaia reduced herself to the size of Rhea, rather than the giantess she was. She wore a serene smile with eyes filled with compassionate understanding. This would be no easy time for Rhea. She would be separated from the son that might defeat Cronos.

"Rhea, you made it," Gaia said with the warmth of life. She looked down at the baby in Rhea's arms. "This is the one?"

Rhea nodded. "His name is Zeus." With slow uncertainty, Rhea relinquished Zeus into Gaia's arms. This act was the only way to protect him from Cronos' wrath, as well as to make their plan move forward. "Gaia," Rhea said with a mixture of sadness and anticipation. "Take care of him."

Gaia cradled the baby gently. She could see the shine of divinity on Zeus' flesh. His eyes crackled with the lightning of the heavens. "I would not worry, Rhea," Gaia reassured, "I shall raise Zeus to be all that we believe he can be and more. He will know he is loved and protected until the day he is ready to free his brothers from Cronos' belly and start the work of removing Cronos from power."

As she spoke, the island seemed to shimmer and shake as if to echo a reflection of Gaia's promise. Gaia turned her gaze to the baby in her arms. "Zeus," she murmured softly, "I will bless you with wisdom, courage, and strength to rule Olympus. You will be all that Cronos and Ouranos failed to be."

Rhea watched Gaia embrace her son, whom she truly loved. He was not like her other children. He would be powerful, and with that power, he would become King. Giving him up to Gaia, even for a short time, brought an unexpected sorrow to her. In her mind, she was confident her decision to part with Zeus was right, but that would not make the absence any easier.

"Thank you, Mother," Rhea said with a soft resolution in her voice. "Prepare him for what is to come, please."

Gaia nodded to her daughter and walked towards a cave deep within her island. Satyrs, nymphs, and animals would clammer and make noise, hiding the baby's cries with the sounds similar to that of thunder and lightning.

Rhea turned, bidding a silent but tearful farewell to her son. While her task in the war that was to come was over, Zeus' journey toward his divine calling had only just begun.

Author's Notes:

I apologize for the wait. Thank you for your patience. While this version is not the final version (it still needs to be edited one more time. Fingers crossed), I have made some changes with the help of an alpha reader and some nit picking of my own. When my editor gets to this story and makes some changes, I will update the story accordingly.

Furthermore, if the lore changes or I mess up a detail, I will go back and fix it at a later date. I am trying my best to encapsulate as much of Greek Mythology in these stories as I can while also making an overarching narrative that is enjoyable, so I am balancing a lot. Please give me some grace.

These stories will be anywhere from 15K to 150K words per story, so between writing, making sure the continuity is correct, characters, and living my life, it is a lot.

Unlike the Carlos stories I write, these are longer, more thought out, and require some research, both for the quotes and correct citations, as well as the overall universe I am trying to build. But trust, there is a LONG story ahead.

On the note of time, even before I give these to my editor, I always run these through four different AI detectors (at 300-1200 words at a time), a plagiarism detector, and I listen to them on a text to speech app to make sure the quality of the writing is up to snuff. Since there is more detail in this work than most of my other writings.

This really makes this labor of love take a LOT of time.

I, also, do not want to be seen as unoriginal. I take that very personally. If someone doesn't like my work, that's okay, but if someone thinks I stole or my work was the effort of someone else, I would be pissed, so I am taking every precaution I can to make sure everyone knows that this work is mine.

Again, thank all of you for being patient.

Feel free to check in every few months. I should have a new story added, as I want to put up about 4 of these a year. Each story should be satisfying on their own, but it will build to the bigger story that I am telling. Think if The Theogony mixed with the MCU.

Some fun facts about the writing, I couldn't find much on what Cronos did during his time as King of the Titans, but I do recall he was King of Mount Othrys, not Olympus. However, for my stories, Olympus is the seat of power for the divine as it was made by Gaia and Ouranos in my telling. I know other tellings have done that, but I just thought it made the most sense.

The most prolific version of Rhea secreting Zeus away, for me, was when in the God of War series, so that helped inform the scene to me, but really, I like the idea that Cronos was cruel to those closest to him (like Rhea, Gaia, and his offspring) while allowing his Titan brothers to do all of the work to make the Realm of Greece as good as possible.

This helped inspire the thinking around much of the story, and that Gaia is that conservative mother standing by her children, prioritizing the favorite (Cronos is King after all) over the wellbeing of her daughter felt like something that could be used to build character. I hope it worked

The Titanomachy is just around the corner. It will have been looked over (BUT MAYBE not edited), but I will post the whole thing before June of 2025. As always, rate, favorite, and comment. It all helps me.

Thanks once again. I look forward to hearing what you think.