The howl shook the cavern, low and guttural, like the earth itself crying out in pain.
The crystals in the walls dimmed, their glow faltering. Water in the hot springs rippled violently. Even the air grew heavy, pressing down on the children until their small bodies trembled.
Chronos clutched his palm, the silver hourglass etched there glowing faintly. His siblings huddled closer to the fire, their emblems flickering in response to the oppressive presence outside.
Gaia rose to her full height. Her hair flowed like forests in a storm, her eyes burning like molten stone. The weight of her divinity filled the cavern, both a shield and a warning.
"Stay within," she commanded, her voice the grinding of tectonic plates. "This is the Sky's hand. You are not ready."
None of them dared argue.
The howl rose again, closer now. Then the trees at the mountain's base split apart, and the beast came into view.
It was vast, monstrous, a fusion of lion and dragon. Its mane burned like wildfire, each hair a flame that consumed the ground beneath it. Its scales cracked with molten light, glowing veins of lava seeping through its flesh. With every breath, it spewed fire hot enough to melt stone. And its wings—wings of stormcloud and lightning—spread wide, blotting out the stars.
"By the gods…" Hyperion whispered, his star-mark blazing faintly against his chest. "That's… that's no ordinary monster."
Gaia's voice rumbled, steady and furious. "Spawn of Uranus. The Sky has noticed you."
The beast roared, the sound ripping through the valley. The mountain shook beneath their feet.
Gaia surged forward, her divine essence exploding outward. The earth itself rose at her call. Roots thicker than towers burst from the soil, wrapping around the monster's limbs. Spikes of stone erupted, spearing into its hide. Rivers bent from their course, crashing into it in waves of fury.
The children gasped in awe. They had never seen Gaia unleash herself so completely. She was the earth—unyielding, unbreakable.
But the beast did not fall.
It thrashed, its claws rending roots like straw. Its wings beat once, and a storm tore across the valley, flinging entire trees into the sky. It opened its jaws and vomited fire, rivers of flame melting stone into rivers of molten glass.
Gaia met it blow for blow. She caught its claws with hands of stone, hurled mountains at its wings, raised walls of earth against its fire. The valley became a battlefield of flame and stone, storm and soil.
And still, the beast pressed forward.
The children trembled.
Oceanus clutched his forearm, where his ripple-mark glowed bright blue. "The water—it's pulling at me. Like it wants to fight."
"No!" Themis snapped, her scales glowing faintly. "You'll be killed before you take a step."
Mnemosyne's eye burned faintly as she whispered, "Mother isn't trying to win… she's just holding it back."
Chronos' stomach knotted. His mother, radiant and terrifying, staggered under the beast's strikes. Blood spilled from her side, staining the soil.
"No," he whispered, his emblem flaring bright. "Not her. Not like this."
The world tilted.
Time faltered.
Then froze.
The beast's claw hung inches from Gaia's chest, frozen mid-strike. Flames froze in the air, a waterfall of fire locked in place. Pebbles hovered like stars. Even Gaia herself was still, her golden hair caught in a wind that no longer moved.
Only Chronos could see. Only Chronos could move.
His nose bled instantly, crimson drops suspended in the frozen air. His tiny body shook under the impossible weight. His lungs screamed for breath.
The silver hourglass on his palm blazed, its sands rushing both upward and downward. Eternal. Wrong.
"I… I can't… hold this…"
His vision blurred. His knees buckled. Every second was agony, every breath a mountain crushing his chest.
The moment shattered.
The beast's strike landed. Gaia raised a wall of stone in the final instant, but the impact shattered it. She roared, staggering back, her blood spraying across the ground.
"Mother!" Tethys cried, her wave-mark blazing, water spilling uncontrollably from the cavern walls.
Gaia's voice thundered, shaking the air. "Do not fear! Learn! This is your enemy—the Sky will never forgive you. One day… you must destroy him!"
The beast turned its molten eyes toward the cavern.
It saw them.
It smelled their divinity.
It wanted them.
Its jaws opened, fire swirling in its throat. The heat was already blistering their skin.
The siblings screamed. Hyperion's star blazed, sparks exploding across his fists. Oceanus' ripple surged, water spraying into the air in a torrent. Mnemosyne's eye glowed as she shouted directions no one could follow. Crius' constellation marks shifted wildly, stars sparking faintly across his back. Coeus clutched his scroll-mark, whispering fragments of knowledge he didn't yet understand. Themis' scales pulsed as she threw her arms wide to shield the younger ones. Phoebe's moon glowed soft, a calming light even in terror. Tethys cried, water flooding the cavern floor. Iapetus growled, his blade-mark burning with violent hunger.
All eleven emblems flared at once—tiny, fragile sparks against the inferno.
Chronos' hourglass blazed brightest of all.
The fire in the beast's throat built to a blinding crescendo.
Chronos clenched his trembling fists. His lungs screamed. His bones ached. His heart thundered so violently he thought it might burst.
If I don't act… we all die.
The hourglass seared him, the weight of time itself crushing his small body. His vision dimmed, blood dripping from his mouth.
And as the beast's fire surged forward—
Chronos let go.