For the first time in their lives, the Eleven stepped beyond the cavern.
The world outside hit them like a storm. Sunlight painted the mountain peaks gold. The air was sharp, filled with pine, stone, and rivers. Valleys stretched below, forests thick as oceans, rivers flashing like silver veins.
Chronos blinked hard. Inside the cavern, even with beasts, he had felt sheltered. Out here, the sky yawned endless, heavy, suffocating. It's watching us, he thought.
Gaia loomed behind them, her molten eyes fixed on the horizon. "This is the world. It is vast. It is hungry. And it will try to devour you. Today, you will not hide in stone. You will step into danger—and learn if my words have taken root."
The ground shuddered.
From the forest below, a creature tore through the trees. Its body was plated in jagged stone, cracks glowing with molten light. Its legs churned the soil into trenches. Its maw split wide, teeth like spears. Its eyes burned with Uranus' will—merciless and hateful.
The Eleven froze.
Then Hyperion shouted, "Mine!" Sparks exploded across his body as he charged. His fist blazed like a comet as it slammed into the beast's chest.
The sparks fizzled uselessly.
The beast swiped. Hyperion was hurled back, crashing into the dirt.
"Idiot!" Themis cried, her scales flaring as she leapt forward. She blocked the next strike, but the impact threw her aside, stone shattering beneath her.
Oceanus roared, water bursting from his ripple-mark. A wave surged, smashing the beast's legs. It staggered, but its claws dug deep, anchoring it.
Iapetus grinned, leaping with his blade-mark blazing. His fist cracked the beast's jaw, but blood sprayed from his own knuckles. He landed laughing, even as his hands shook.
Crius lit constellations above, but they scattered before forming steady lines. Coeus muttered truths, his scroll burning as half-formed words rippled the air. Tethys sobbed as water burst uncontrollably, flooding the ground without aim.
The beast plowed through them all.
Gaia's roar split the mountain. "Alone, you flicker. Together, you blaze. Protect each other—or be broken!"
The siblings gasped, realization sinking in. They weren't fighting with each other—they were fighting beside each other, scattered sparks.
Phoebe moved first. She clasped Tethys' hands, her crescent glowing. "Breathe. Focus. Aim. Don't flood—strike."
Tethys trembled, then nodded. A sharp jet of water burst from her mark, smashing into the beast's knees.
Oceanus stepped in, doubling the force. "Good—hold it steady!"
Hyperion staggered upright, sparks flickering. "Fine—let's try this again!" He hurled his fire into Oceanus' mist. Steam exploded, cloaking the beast's head. It roared, blinded.
Mnemosyne's eye blazed. "It's swinging left—Crius, light there!"
Crius roared, constellations blazing exactly where she called. The beast struck into the stars, dazzling itself with their flare.
Coeus' chant deepened, the ground cracking under the beast. It stumbled.
Iapetus charged again, but Themis intercepted, redirecting his wild strike into the beast's open wound. Blood sprayed as it howled.
The siblings shouted in unison now, each strike flowing like water.
Chronos' chest burned as he watched. For the first time, they weren't eleven sparks. They were fire.
But the beast reared back, its claw descending straight at Tethys.
Chronos' palm seared. The silver hourglass blazed.
Not her. Not my sister.
The world lurched.
The beast's claw froze midair.
Blood spilled from Chronos' nose. His body shook violently. But he held it—just long enough.
"Now!" he roared.
Oceanus' water surged. Hyperion's sparks ignited. Iapetus struck with fury. Together, their blows shattered the beast's arm in molten shards.
It staggered. Phoebe steadied Tethys' panic. Themis shielded Crius. Mnemosyne guided strikes. Coeus cracked the earth under its feet.
Together, they toppled the beast.
It crashed down, writhing.
Gaia's shadow fell. She raised her colossal hand and crushed its skull into the earth. Silence followed.
The Eleven collapsed, trembling. Their emblems flickered dimly.
Gaia's gaze swept them. "This was not my victory. This was yours. You fought not as sparks, but as fire. Yet you bleed, and your emblems dim. Do you feel it?"
They nodded weakly.
"Good," she said. "Then learn this truth: your realms are you. Power is not only for striking—it is for mending. The rivers flow not only to drown, but to heal. Flame does not only burn—it can warm. Judgment not only condemns—it can steady. Time not only devours—it restores."
The siblings stiffened, eyes widening.
Gaia pointed to Oceanus. "Draw the river through your veins. Let it cool your wounds."
He obeyed, water shimmering faintly. His wrist eased.
She looked to Hyperion. "Do not force fire outward. Let it burn within, steady and warm."
His arms steadied, sparks fading.
One by one she guided them—Phoebe calming her own fatigue with moonlight, Coeus easing his mind by slowing his scroll's flow, even Iapetus knitting torn skin by focusing his fury inward as strength.
Finally, Gaia's gaze burned into Chronos.
"Time wounds. Time mends. You are its bearer. Close your eyes. Do not freeze—flow."
Chronos obeyed, trembling. The hourglass pulsed gently, and for a moment, the crushing weight eased. His chest didn't heal fully, but the stabbing pain dulled.
He gasped, opening his eyes. "I… I can… mend myself?"
Gaia nodded. "Every step is yours. Every breath. Use your realm, or it will consume you."
The siblings stared at each other, their exhaustion tempered by awe. For the first time, they felt not only like fighters—but like something more.
Gaia's molten gaze hardened. "Remember this. Titans do not wield realms. Titans are realms. Protect each other. Heal each other. That is how you will defy the Sky."
Chronos pressed his glowing palm to his chest, whispering to himself: Not cursed. Not broken. I am time. And I can endure.