In the deepest pit of Tartarus, where light drowned in a mire of despair, Cronus sat enthroned on jagged obsidian, his massive frame cloaked in shadow, chains of black iron coiling around his wrists like living
serpents. His eyes, molten gold and slit like a viper's, burned through the gloom of his lair, a cavern of cracked stone and dripping ichor. The air reeked of sulfur and decay, bones crunching underfoot, skulls grinning from the walls. A lesser Titan, Crius, knelt before him, star-flecked robes trembling. "My lord," Crius rasped, voice quaking, "the shades failed. The mortal, Colton—he
lives. Apollo intervened, burned them to ash with his light."
Cronus's snarl shook the cavern, stalactites rattling. "Failed?" His voice was a blade, slicing the air. "I gave you one task, Crius—to crush the spark-bearer before he grows strong." His massive hand shot out, seizing Crius by the throat, iron chains clanking. The Titan gasped, eyes bulging, as Cronus's fingers tightened, veins pulsing like molten rivers. "You dare bring me failure?" With a sickening crunch, he crushed Crius's neck, blood spraying, black ichor oozing from the mangled flesh. The body slumped,
twitching, as Cronus tossed it aside, skull cracking against stone, a wet smear trailing. He rose, towering, his sickle gleaming with dried blood, its edge whispering promises of slaughter. "I'm trapped in this cursed pit," he growled, chains rattling as he gestured to the cavern's walls, etched with sigils that
pulsed with divine malice. "Bound by Zeus's treachery, unable to break free—yet. But I will rise, and Earth will pay for its insolence, its mortals groveling under my sickle."
Another figure stepped forward, cloaked in shadow, voice smoother but laced with malice—Coeus, Titan of foresight. "Lord Cronus, the shades brought us a prize." He gestured to a pulsating crystal suspended in
chains, its surface swirling with dark mist. Inside, Bella floated, her body rigid, eyes frozen in terror, veins glowing faintly under translucent skin, as if the stasis drained her soul. Black tendrils coiled within the crystal,
pulsing like a heartbeat, tethering her to Tartarus's hunger. "The mortal's sister," Coeus said, smirking. "She screamed for him as we bound her in the crystal, her life leashed to our will. She's bait now, to draw him here."
Cronus's laugh was a low, guttural growl, chilling the air. "Good. Let her suffer. The spark-bearer will come, and I'll gut him myself." He turned to a figure in blood-red armor, eyes smoldering like coals—Ares, god of war, his main lieutenant, a blade dripping gore at his side. "Ares," Cronus
rumbled, "send your hounds to the mortal world. Find Prometheus. That traitor's
fire burns in the boy. Bring me his head, or I'll take yours."
Ares grinned, teeth bared like a wolf's. "My war-dogs will tear Earth apart, my lord. Shades, harpies, whatever it takes." He slammed his fist against his chest, armor clanging, and vanished into a swirl of crimson mist, leaving the stench of blood behind. Cronus stared at Bella's crystal, her
frozen scream fueling his rage, the cavern's shadows coiling tighter.
On Earth, in a quiet suburban street baked under a Saturday morning sun, Kevin trudged toward Colton's house, a crumpled birthday card in his pocket. The air smelled of cut grass and asphalt, but a knot twisted in his gut—Colton hadn't answered texts since last night, when Bella vanished. It was
Colton's seventeenth birthday, and Kevin wasn't about to let his best friend
dodge him. The house loomed ahead, a squat two-story with peeling paint, its
windows dark, curtains still. He knocked, the sound hollow, no answer. "Come
on, man," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. He circled to the backyard,
where Colton's bedroom window sat above a rusted trellis, the way Kevin always
climbed when Colton overslept.
He scaled the trellis, grunting, and peered through the cracked window. His breath caught. The room was a warzone—bed shredded, desk overturned, glass shards glinting on the floor. Blood splattered the walls, dried in streaks, pooling on the hardwood. "Holy shit," Kevin whispered, heart pounding. He shoved the window open, climbing through, glass crunching under his sneakers. The air reeked of iron and something sour, like burnt hair.
Colton's posters—bands, superheroes—hung in tatters, claw marks raking through
them. A broken lamp flickered, casting jagged shadows. Kevin stepped toward the
desk, spotting a photo frame face-down, Bella and Colton grinning at last
summer's fair. His hands shook as he picked it up, blood smearing his fingers.
Footsteps thudded downstairs, heavy, deliberate. Kevin froze, pulse racing. He bolted for the hallway, descending the creaking stairs, the house too quiet, too wrong. He reached the front door, yanking it open, only to find Derek standing there, the town's resident bully, all muscle and
sneer, his two lackeys—Joey and Mike—flanking him, grinning like jackals.
Derek's eyes glinted, too sharp, too knowing. "Well, well, Kev," he drawled,
cracking his knuckles. "Here to wish Colton a happy birthday, huh? Why do you
look so scared? You walk in on him in his birthday suit?" Joey laughed, a nasty
edge to it, as Mike blocked the doorway.
Kevin's mouth went dry. "What the hell do you want, Derek?" he said, voice shaking but defiant. Derek's grin widened, and he grabbed Kevin's shirt, yanking him outside with a rough jerk, the door slamming shut
behind them. Joey and Mike closed in, their shadows swallowing the porch light.