Far from the void where Chronos endured, the other Titans began their own trials. Though they had parted ways, the bond of blood and flame tethered them still. Each walked into danger, into solitude, into the shaping of their realms.
Oceanus – The Endless Current
The eastern horizon was nothing but sea. Oceanus strode into the tide, his ripple-mark pulsing as waves rose to meet him. The water welcomed him, but not gently—it dragged at his body, testing his lungs, pulling him under with crushing weight.
Storm-serpents swam in the depths, their scales black as oil, their eyes burning with malice. One lunged, jaws wide, current curling behind it.
Oceanus raised his hand. The water obeyed, currents bending into a spear. With a thrust, the serpent's head burst apart, its body dissolving into foam. Yet another struck, then another. Soon he was surrounded, their coils dragging him deeper into the abyss.
The pressure threatened to crush his chest. His body screamed for air. Yet in the darkness, he felt his realm expand—the sea was not enemy but extension. The current that sought to drown him bent into his veins. He wove tides into armor, into claws, into wings.
When he surged upward, breaking the surface, the storm itself bowed. Rain lashed against his skin, but his eyes burned steady.
I am not driftwood. I am the current itself.
Hyperion – The Blazing Crown
To the south, mountains burned with molten rivers. Hyperion stood at the edge of a caldera, his sun-core blazing hot enough to blister stone.
The land itself rejected him. Winds howled with cinders, rocks split beneath his feet. Fire-beasts rose from the lava, their bodies molten, their claws dripping heat.
Hyperion laughed. "Finally, something worthy."
His miniature sun flared above his palm, spilling both warmth and annihilation. He hurled it into the beasts, flames exploding in waves. They screamed, their molten hides cracking.
But the fire did not fade. The land drank his heat, then roared back with volcanic fury. His flames nearly consumed him, his skin blistering beneath his own sun.
On the brink of collapse, Hyperion understood. His flame was not only destruction—it was balance. A sun did not merely burn. It gave warmth. It gave life.
He breathed deep, his core steadying. His flames shifted, their wild hunger cooling into steady radiance. The sun above his palm no longer flickered—it blazed calm and unyielding.
I will burn, but I will also give. That is my fire.
Phoebe – The Veil of Moons
Phoebe walked beneath endless plains, the night sky her only companion. Her crescent pulsed, moons flickering faintly in her vision. Yet shadows stalked her.
Beasts cloaked in darkness crept low, their bodies twisting in and out of the plain's tall grass. Their eyes gleamed, their jaws dripped venom.
When they struck, they struck as silence—no sound, only the sudden weight of killing intent.
Phoebe exhaled, her crescent glowing. Silver light spread from her skin, soft as mist. The moons shimmered above her, dozens of pale guardians. The beasts lunged into the glow—and faltered.
Their forms twisted, their strikes slowed. In her light, their darkness could not hide.
She raised her hand, and the silver moons descended. They did not roar like fire or crash like waves—they whispered. And in their whisper, beasts dissolved into shadow.
Her breath shuddered, but her heart did not falter.
Light does not need to shout to banish darkness. It only needs to endure.
Tethys – The Drowned Caverns
Deep beneath the earth, rivers carved drowned caverns. Tethys descended alone, her emblem glowing faintly. The tide pulled at her lungs as she waded deeper, water rising past her chest, past her chin.
The caverns were alive with teeth. Fish with rows of jagged jaws. Worms that spat venom. Shadows moving just beyond reach.
She swam, her body burning with exhaustion. The water weighed her limbs like chains. Yet her tide pulsed steady, urging her forward.
When a maw large enough to swallow her whole surged from the depths, she did not flinch. She raised her hands, water swirling around her like armor. The beast struck, and her shield held. She twisted the tide into a spear and drove it through the creature's skull.
The cavern lit with silver-blue glow. Tethys floated above the corpse, her chest heaving.
The tide swelled inside her veins, calm and steady.
The ocean is not chaos. It is rhythm. And I am its pulse.
Mnemosyne – The Halls of Lies
Mnemosyne wandered rivers that curved into forests where memory twisted. Her single eye burned as she walked, her halls of light flickering behind her.
The beasts here did not strike with claws. They whispered. They wore faces of her siblings, voices of her mother. They called her weak, forgetful, useless.
Her hands shook. Her eye burned. She wanted to answer, but the whispers drowned her thoughts.
Then she remembered.
She reached into her halls, touching orbs of light. Laughter. Battles. Training. Siblings standing at her side. The true memories blazed, and the false whispers crumbled.
The beasts screamed as their illusions shattered. She tore them apart with a blade woven from pure memory, their bodies collapsing into smoke.
When the forest cleared, Mnemosyne stood taller. Her halls glowed brighter.
Memory is not a burden. It is a weapon. It is me.
Far above, the moons shifted. The seas raged. The mountains burned. In each corner of the pantheon, a Titan bled, fought, and shaped their realm.
Yet their journey was not complete. Four more siblings walked paths of fire and shadow, of stars and judgment, of fury and knowledge. Their trials waited in silence, ready to carve them into what they must become.
The first year was only beginning.