Atlas stormed into the palace of Cronus atop Mount Othrys, his footsteps echoing like thunder through the silent halls. He marched directly to the innermost throne room. He bowed respectfully to the empty, grand throne before turning to the others.
His fierce gaze swept over the assembled cardinal Titans and settled on Pallas, the strategist. Prometheus is not present, he noted, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. In such situations, he always arrives first. Something is wrong.
He clapped his massive hands, the sound cracking through the air to get their attention. "I have grave news. The Underworld has fallen. It is now the domain of a god who calls himself Hades, and he claims to be the eldest son of Lord Cronus."
Koios stepped forward, his face grim. "The claim is true. After the supernatural fog that hid the truth dissipated, our scouts confirmed it. Lord Cronus did not have six children; he had seven, and they all live."
Iapetus clenched his jaw. "A powerful magic, likely spun by Nyx herself, blinded us all. But the veil has lifted. The evidence is now plain for all to see."
Pallas, ever the tactician, interjected. "The greater threat is the consolidation. Several minor Titans and human emperors have already pledged themselves to them. The scent of rebellion is thick in the air."
"Those cowards! Traitors!" Atlas's roar shook the hall, his aura flaring out in a wave of heat that forced the others to brace themselves. "After all Lord Cronus has done for them!"
CREAK
The giant doors of the throne hall swung open. All noise died instantly, suffocated by an immense, crushing pressure. A Titan with a muscular frame and white hair, bathed in fresh blood and holding a massive scythe, strode toward the throne.
Every Titan in the room dropped to their knees. "Greetings, Lord Cronus!"
His fierce red eyes scanned them. "Where is Prometheus?" Cronus's voice was low, but it rang with deadly authority.
Iapetus shuffled forward on his knees, head bowed. "Please punish me, my lord! My own blood... my son... has dared to raise his sword against you."
Cronus's aura erupted, a visible shroud of rage that made the very stone of the palace groan. "Iapetus, stand! The punishment will not be for you, but for him!" He leaned forward, his voice a venomous whisper. "Tell me. For what reason does he choose betrayal?"
Iapetus gulped, his body trembling. "My lord… your children… they are alive. They gather an army, and Prometheus… he fights with them. He speaks of an Oracle… he says your fall is inevitable."
STOMP
Cronus's foot crashed down. The ground fractured, and a deep tremor ran through the entire mountain. "TRAITORS! I WILL CUT THEM TO PIECES!"
He rose from his throne, taking one furious step before a wave of nausea visibly hit him. He stumbled, catching himself on the arm of the throne. "My lord!" the Titans cried, rushing forward.
He raised a hand, halting them. He clutched his head in agony. Argh… Damn this curse! He straightened, his voice a strained command. "I give you one month. Bring me every rebel in chains and throw them into Tartarus!"
Teleport!
Cronus vanished. A collective, shaky breath passed through the Titans as they rose.
Pallas looked around, bewildered. "What was that? Was it that strange creature he hunted?"
Krios answered, his face grave. "No. It was the curse."
"A curse?" Atlas was shocked. "What curse could affect Lord Cronus?"
Koios nodded grimly. "Yes, a curse from a broken oath. It forces him into a deep slumber for one month of every century. One month is nothing, but the curse always strikes at the most critical possible moment."
"What oath did he break?" Pallas asked.
Iapetus answered, his voice heavy with shame. "When he became king, he swore to Mother Gaea that he would free the Hecatoncheires and the Cyclopes. For reasons he never shared, he broke that vow and imprisoned them in a deeper, darker cell instead."
---
At the center of the Underworld, before their thrones, Hades and Hecate stood side-by-side, looking out at the nascent realm.
"Are you ready?" Hades asked, his voice calm.
"Ready," Hecate answered, her confidence unwavering.
He offered his hand. "Hold on. This is a delicate process. Our timing and energy must be perfectly synchronized." She took his hand. A shimmering, illusory red thread materialized, binding their wrists together. "The soul bond is active."
In unison, they each took a vial of the mysterious potion and drank. As the liquid slid down their throats, it fractured into microscopic particles of raw power, merging with their blood. Their veins bulged and glowed beneath their skin. Their auras erupted—Hades's a storm of chaotic black haze, Hecate's a blinding, splitting silver light. For a moment, the energy threatened to overwhelm them, but through sheer will, they wrestled it under control.
Twilight Flame! Silver Flame!
They summoned their ultimate powers into their free hands. When they brought the two orbs of energy together, they did not merge. They repelled each other violently, flickering and straining like opposite poles of a magnet.
"Fusion!" Hades commanded.
The flames surrendered to their combined will, swirling into a violent, beautiful dance before collapsing inward. The result was the Abyssal Flame: a swirling vortex of violet and azure, rising like living smoke. Its ethereal tendrils glowed with an inner light that felt both destructive and sacred.
"This is the Abyssal Flame," Hades stated. "An energy one step away from the primordial."
Hecate watched the unstable power warily. "Why do I feel like we are repeating history?"
"Because we are. Drexnor and Eros meddled with primordial energy. Now, we meddle with this. But we have no other choice." He met her gaze. "We can discuss the irony later. For now, we finish this. We have little time."
Together, they thrust the Abyssal Flame into the ground.
The entire Underworld shuddered. Giant fissures ripped across the landscape, their impossible depths glowing with an ethereal light. The fissures raced outward, targeting the colossal pillars and mountain roots that physically tethered the Underworld to the Earth realm.
CRACK! BOOOOM!
The connections shattered. But the destruction did not stop. The very ground of the Underworld began to dissolve into origin, into primordial energy. Archdemons, monsters, and spirits who moments before stood on solid ground now floated, terrified, in a sudden, soundless void.
A legion of archdemons scrambled over each other, their roars turning to shrieks. A hydra tumbled end over end, its heads snapping in panic. It was a symphony of impending doom.
The Abyssal Flame expanded, not to burn, but to unmake. It consumed the dissolving land, pulling all the disparate energy—rock, soul, shadow, and light—into a single, giant, swirling sphere. The sphere then constricted, compressing the entirety of their old realm into a tiny, impossibly dense orb of Abyssal Flame.
Hades and Hecate, floating beside it, placed their hands upon the sphere, pouring their divine essence into it.
"Reborn."
The sphere pulsed once, then exploded in a silent, blinding shockwave of light. When the brilliance faded, a single, perfect, purple star hung where the sphere had been.
Hecate glanced at Hades. "Is it…?"
He nodded. "The true core."
They again poured their energy into the star.
"Creation: Underworld Realm!"
The core pulsed with a deep, purple radiance. It began to shape itself, first forming two giant thrones. Then, the ground spread out from them, black and fertile. The central temple reformed, stone stacking upon stone, grander than before.
Hecate took out a shimmering silver essence, her moon divinity, and offered it to the newborn sky. "Creation: Solar Body!"
A new, soft light bloomed in the twilight expanse above.
Hades immediately glared upward, sensing intrusion. "Lady Nyx!"
In an instant, Nyx responded. Her darkness flowed like a tide, enveloping the entire Underworld and the space around it in a protective veil, hiding the rebirth from the spying eyes of the Titans.
From a distance, Ananke watched. "I cannot let you interfere." She waved a hand, her power stabilizing the newborn realm's position in the cosmos and adding another, invisible layer of protection. Her promise was kept.