The fire roared toward them, a blazing torrent that promised only death. The cavern shuddered as molten light filled the night.
Chronos' lungs screamed. His vision darkened. His emblem burned so hot it felt like it would sear straight through his skin.
If I don't act… we all die.
The hourglass blazed. Time cracked.
And then—silence.
The fire froze mid-air, a river of flame suspended in place. The siblings' screams cut off mid-breath. The beast's molten eyes glared, but its body was locked. Even Gaia, bracing to shield them, was caught in the stillness.
Chronos stumbled forward, nose bleeding, chest heaving. Every step was agony. The more of the world he froze, the more it pressed down on him like a mountain crushing a child. His body trembled, threatening to collapse.
I can't… I can't keep doing this…
He forced himself to look at the beast. Its jaws were still open, fire stuck in its throat. His emblem pulsed, as if whispering to him.
And then—an idea struck.
What if… he didn't stop everything? What if he stopped just one thing?
He staggered closer, silver light spilling from his palm. His body shook as he focused, narrowing his will. The frozen flames around him wavered, threatening to collapse back into motion. He ignored them, pouring everything into the beast alone.
The fire sputtered, shaking, then vanished. The siblings gasped as the cavern snapped back into motion—the air, the sound, the heat. But the monster itself remained frozen, locked in place.
It worked.
Chronos collapsed to one knee, coughing blood, his body on fire from the inside. But he had done it.
He had frozen the beast.
"Now!" he screamed, his voice breaking. "Mother—strike now!"
Gaia roared, her essence exploding outward. The ground split, mountains shattering as jagged spears of stone erupted beneath the beast. Roots coiled like serpents, binding its limbs. Rivers rose in towering waves, smashing its burning mane.
The beast shrieked, the sound like the sky tearing apart.
Chronos' vision blurred. The strain tore through his veins, his body screaming to stop. He could feel his grasp slipping. His emblem burned so bright it blinded him.
Then the beast moved.
It broke free, its head wrenching upward, molten eyes blazing.
Chronos screamed, the hourglass flickering wildly. His grasp shattered.
Time snapped back.
The beast lunged—only to meet Gaia's fist.
Her strike landed with the weight of continents. The beast's chest caved inward, its molten fire bursting like shattered glass. The ground split, the air shook, and the monster's roar ended in a gurgling cry as it collapsed, broken and defeated.
Silence followed.
The children stared, trembling, their emblems glowing faintly in the dark.
Gaia stood over the corpse, blood dripping from her side, her essence dimming. Her golden eyes swept back toward the cavern, softening only slightly as she looked at her children.
"You see now," she said, her voice rumbling low. "The Sky will never forgive you. Uranus will send more. Worse. Stronger. This was only a whisper of his hatred."
Chronos fell to his knees. His vision spun. His chest burned with fire.
But his siblings rushed to him. Oceanus grabbed his arm, keeping him upright. Hyperion knelt, sparks flickering in his fists. Mnemosyne pressed her glowing eye to his forehead, whispering, "Breathe… focus… remember the rhythm of your pulse."
"I… stopped it…" Chronos gasped, blood staining his lips. "Not everything. Just… him…"
Themis' scales flickered faintly, her expression sharp. "So you can choose your target."
Chronos nodded weakly. "It still… takes everything out of me. But it's better… than stopping the world."
Gaia lowered herself, her massive form casting a shadow over them all. She extended her hand, placing it against Chronos' back. The warmth of the earth seeped into him, steadying his breath.
"You have touched a power that devours even gods," she said. "But you are my son. Learn to shape it. Do not let it shape you."
Chronos met her gaze, trembling but resolute. "I'll master it. Even if it kills me trying."
Her expression softened for a moment. Then her eyes hardened again as she looked toward the sky.
"The Sky has seen you now," Gaia murmured. "Uranus will not stop. He has already sent one of his spawn. Soon, he will demand more."
The siblings shivered at her words. The beast at her feet was dead, but its presence lingered, a reminder that the Sky hated them simply for existing.
Chronos clenched his fist around the silver emblem, his body still shaking. He had discovered something that day—not just that his power could be focused, but that he could choose.
And choice meant freedom.
Even against the Sky.