Darkness.
That is what dominates the inside of the Crooked One.
A prison of divine flesh and ichor. A prison of darkness where even the smallest flashes of hope are denied their existence.
A place of the foul and the rot. Where the increasingly darkening essence of the King manifests as his rancid, toxic, and corrosive bile. Threatening to dissolve anything it touches into oblivion. Denying anything trapped in it the mercy of the afterlife's judgment.
For Time has no mercy, and neither does the Titan that embodies its darker aspects.
It is a cosmic tragedy, then, that this foul, dark place is all that the five within have ever known.
Hestia, the first child, was the lonely one who spent an entire year by herself in this darkness. Her gentle soul and kind visage marred by the darkness within. Scared of it even, for she was the only one who ever remembers the brief moment when the Crooked One was a gentle, loving father before the chain that is the prophecy bound him to darkness.
Then came Demeter a year later. Her fiery and joyful personality, even if it was a fake one, the only light in this darkness where they were trapped.
Then came Hera. Her wisdom and logic made it all the more harder for her to accept the darkness and decay around her, as her heart longed for what lay outside. Her only solace in this pit of evil being her sisters.
And then came Hades. He who felt an unnatural attraction to the darkness of the pit. An attraction that seemed to be mutual as the darkness clung to him like a cloak. As if it were welcoming a beloved child or its eternal master. A point of contention between him and his sisters, who feared the dark above all. Yet, there was no denying that they loved him all the same, just like he did them. For they were the only family that each of them ever had other than their mother.
And finally, it was Poseidon who fell. His very presence causing the bile within to rage with his infantile screams of anger and fear, showcasing his power just like his older brother. His fiery temper manifesting quickly as he rapidly grew in a matter of a few months, clashing with his brother all the time. Yet, there was also love, just like with the rest of the siblings, as he would be the first to shield the others from the corrosive bile tides within their prison.
As a new race of Immortals, more graceful and powerful than the race of their parents, it was inevitable that they would grow rapidly, reaching a state similar to a human teenager, despite the oldest of them, Hestia, only being five years old. Yet, their minds were still those of childishness, for better or for worse.
That is why they woke up in terror and huddled together as a roar unlike anyother rang out across their prison
GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
*GROAN!!*
Explosion after explosion rang out in their prison, originating from what passed as the ceiling of their eternal prison. The trachea that connects the stomach of the Crooked one to his mouth.
Within the darkness, the terrified siblings spotted the emerald flashes followed by the explosions, the unholy screams of rage, and the groan of flesh and ichor that seemed to imply their warden's pain at these attacks.
Then, with a lurch, their world twisted, and a boy fell to the fleshy ground on his feet. His stance still held with the experience of a warrior, and his arms still extended forward as a beam of pure power erupted, making the walls of flesh buckle under his might and divine ichor flow from the wound.
Unfortunately, the damage was only temporary as the flesh reknit itself rapidly. Within a mere second, the wound was gone.
The boy growled like a beast and unleashed another roar of defiance and prepared to attack again.
Yet, it was a warm hand gripping his shoulder gently that stopped him from further attempts.
Her warm, terrified, yet pitying gaze bore into his own pale yellow, which slowly started to recede back into their regular inky black.
"It is no use, brother. We have tried to fight our way out before. But in the face of his healing, we are helpless."
The boy finally relinquished his combat stance, staring at the taller girl with a gaze stuck between excitement, love, and pity.
He smiled wryly as the siblings slowly and cautiously approached him.
"How do you know I am your brother? For all you know, i could be some random being that he devoured."
Hestia smiled as her power, her divine essence, flared, eliciting a response from the rest of her siblings, whose divine essence flared as well in response.
Including the boy's own divine essence.
"That is how I know, brother."
"....You are just like mother described you to be, Sister."
The boy's words filled Hestia's heart with warmth and longing as she remembered the brief moment of love and peace from her childhood outside.
Suddenly, the boy's vision was dominated by wheat-gold as excited golden-brown eyes bore into his own gaze.
"What did mother say about me? Did she say anything good?"
The boy knew exactly who this was, for she was probably the only one that laster more than a few seconds outside before being devoured.
"She said that you are very much excitable, sister Demeter. And, she was right."
Slowly, the caution and fear of the siblings started to fade as the boy continued speaking and introduced himself as their youngest brother, Brolios.
Yet, deep within Brolios's mind, his rage at becoming a prisoner once again continued to simmer.