Night fell heavy over the mountains.
The Eleven lay scattered across the cavern floor, still recovering from the hunt. Their bodies ached, bruises mottled their skin, and their emblems glowed faintly like dying embers. Outside, the world was quiet—too quiet. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Chronos sat apart, back against the stone wall. His palm burned faintly, the silver hourglass pulsing. He traced it with his fingers, remembering the beast's claw frozen mid-strike, the blood on his lips, the desperate cries of his siblings. Three heartbeats. That was all he had bought them. And yet… it had been enough.
Maybe we really can endure, he thought.
Then the stars dimmed.
The heavens churned, clouds boiling across the sky though no storm was born. The cavern trembled, dust falling from its ceiling. The air thickened until every breath was like drowning.
And then it came.
"Gaia."
The voice was not sound. It was weight. It pressed into bone, rattled blood, scraped across thought. It filled the cavern, the mountain, the world. It was endless, vast, suffocating. The Sky itself had spoken.
The Eleven cried out. Hyperion clutched his head, sparks flashing wildly. Tethys whimpered, covering her ears though the sound was inside her skull. Oceanus staggered, his ripple-mark flaring uncontrollably. Crius fell to his knees as his constellations shattered into sparks.
Chronos gasped, his chest burning. His vision swam silver. This voice… it has no beginning, no end. It's eternity crushing down on me.
Gaia rose to her full height, blocking the cavern mouth. For the first time, her children saw her vast face shadowed with fear.
"Gaia," the Sky thundered again, louder. "You hide from me. You birth in secret. You defy me."
Oceanus' voice cracked. "Mother… what is that?"
Gaia's gaze hardened. "Your father. Uranus. The Sky."
The Eleven froze. Hyperion's sparks sputtered. Mnemosyne's glowing eye flickered as though memories themselves trembled. Themis whispered, "That's… impossible."
But the voice rolled on.
"You dare raise your children against me? You dare teach them strength when they should crawl at my feet? Already your womb twists with ugliness. Already you spawn filth that offends the Sky."
Gaia's molten eyes flared, fury trembling through the cavern walls. "They are not filth. They are life. They are Titans."
The earth split.
Screams tore up from the depths, raw and broken. The ground heaved as forms began to push into existence.
The Eleven stumbled back as monstrous shapes emerged—towering bodies malformed and grotesque. The Hecatoncheires, with their hundred writhing arms and fifty heads shrieking at once. The Cyclopes, their massive bodies trembling, their single eyes glowing like burning coals. Their cries shook the mountain, louder than thunder, rawer than fire.
The siblings recoiled in horror. Phoebe clutched Tethys, shielding her eyes. Iapetus bared his teeth, fists clenching though his body shook. Crius muttered in panic, stars scattering uselessly above him. Mnemosyne's eye widened, glowing too bright, recording every hideous detail no matter how she wished to forget.
"Mother…" Chronos whispered, voice breaking. "What are they?"
Gaia's molten eyes shimmered with sorrow. "Your brothers. Born twisted, cursed by Uranus' hatred."
The Eleven's blood ran cold. Brothers. Family. Yet everything about them screamed agony, rejection, doom.
"See what you birth without me?" Uranus' voice shook the heavens. "Monsters. Abominations. I will cast them into the dark where they belong. And the Eleven you prize so dearly—I will shatter them. Where are my children of pride? Where are the Titans I should call mine?"
Lightning split the sky, tearing the night open. The ground quaked as the monstrous siblings howled, their voices blending with Uranus' fury.
Tethys sobbed, clinging to Phoebe. "They're hideous… why? Why would he do this?"
Themis' voice trembled. "Because he fears us. He curses what he cannot control."
Oceanus gritted his teeth, water spilling uncontrolled from his mark. "He would even destroy his own children…"
Iapetus roared, slamming his fists into the ground. "Then he's no father of mine!"
But Chronos stood frozen. His chest ached, his hourglass searing. He felt the weight of the Sky pressing down, endless, merciless. His siblings cowered, and his mother strained against it. For the first time, he felt something deeper than fear.
Hatred.
This is my father? This endless cruelty? He would devour us, condemn our brothers, crush us before we rise?
The silver hourglass blazed in his palm, visions flickering before his eyes—Uranus looming over the world, smothering it in endless night. And then another vision, fleeting but sharp: the Sky shattering, broken by a hand that wielded time like a blade.
If the Sky devours… then Time will cut it down.
Gaia spread her arms wide, shielding the Eleven. Her molten voice shook with rage and sorrow alike. "You will not break them. They are Titans. They are mine."
The heavens thundered in answer, Uranus' laughter like a storm. "Then let them rise, Gaia. Let them try. I will crush them beneath me, as I have crushed all things. The Sky does not bow."
The monstrous siblings screamed louder, their cries echoing like a curse. The Eleven pressed close together, trembling, yet bound by fear and fury alike.
Chronos' breath came ragged. He pressed his hand to his chest, the hourglass searing. One day… I'll cut through him. One day, I'll make even the Sky tremble.
Outside, the stars flickered again, as though mocking the thought.
And the Age of Titans quaked beneath the weight of the Sky.