Coeus' voice carried across the void, heavy with ancient wisdom.
"In the beginning, there was only Chaos."
There was no light, no darkness, no sky, no sea—only an endless, shifting void of possibility. It was a state of absolute disorder, where nothing and everything existed at once.
"Then the first beings emerged—the Primordials."
From the endless swirl of Chaos, a presence formed. Gaia, the Primordial of life.
"Her birth gave form to the concept of earth and land, and thus, the world found its foundation."
Gaia was not just the soil and mountains—she was existence itself, the very body upon which all things would stand.
But the act of creation has a cost. As Gaia was born, Chaos was split, and from that division came another force—Tartarus.
"Tartarus was the pit, the abyss, the place where all things decayed and returned to nothingness."
Unlike Gaia, who held wisdom and purpose, Tartarus was primal and instinctive. He did not think—he consumed.
With these two, the world had taken shape, but it was incomplete. A world without protection was a world left exposed to the dangers beyond the void.
"Thus, the great shield was formed—Nyx and Erebus."
Nyx, the embodiment of night, and Erebus, the god of deep darkness, wrapped their domains around the world, covering it from the outside forces that lurked beyond the great unknown.
They became a veil, a boundary that separated the world from the vast, unknowable horrors of the multiverse.
With the foundation of the world set—the land, the abyss, and the great barrier—existence was complete.
But Gaia was not yet done.
"She birthed three new forces: the Sky, the Sea, and the Mountains."
Each of these creations brought forth their own gods.
Uranos, God of the Sky, who stretched across the world and became the heavens.
Pontus, God of the Sea, who filled the gaps of the earth with endless waters.
Uria, God of the Mountains, who stood tall as the silent guardians of the land.
For a time, balance existed. The earth, the waters, and the sky were one.
But balance does not last forever.
"It was then that ambition was born."
Uranos, ruler of the sky, looked upon the world and saw an opportunity.
He discovered that a greater power existed—a position that could elevate him beyond just a god.
"The title of 'God-King'—a rank so powerful that it could propel one into the realm of the Primordials."
To become a Primordial on par with Gaia, Tartarus, Nyx, and Erebus, he needed to be recognized by the Will of the World. But recognition required merit.
"And merit required an act of significance—an achievement that would shape existence itself."
At first, Uranos did not know what this act should be.
But then, he made a terrible realization.
"There were others eligible for the throne—Pontus and Uria."
If they succeeded before him, he would lose his chance forever.
And so, before they could claim the position of God-King, he struck first.
Pontus, the God of the Sea, was the first to fall. The waters wept, turning from stillness to chaos, birthing the first waves.
Uria, the God of the Mountains, followed soon after. The land trembled, and the first earthquakes were born.
With his rivals dead, Uranos finally saw the path to his ascension.
"He found his merit. He needed to create something never before seen—something that would change the course of the world."
And so, he turned to Gaia.
"He wed the source of life herself and bore twelve children—the Titans."
Their births shaped the laws of the world, bringing forth order, time, and fate.
And thus, the rule of Uranos, the first God-King, had begun.
Though Uria had been utterly destroyed, his concept erased from existence, Pontus was not so easily vanquished.
"His body may have been torn apart, but his soul remained—sleeping, deep within the endless sea."
And so, the world continued under the rule of Uranos.
At first, Uranos ruled with certainty. He was the first God-King, the Sky itself, the lord who covered the world.
But with power came fear.
"He grew paranoid, terrified that his own children—the Titans—would one day rise against him as he had done to Pontus and Uria."
He watched them carefully, his golden gaze forever looking down from the heavens.
At first, his children were loyal, shaping the world under his command.
Hyperion, the Titan of Light, illuminated the heavens.
Theia, the Titaness of Sight, gave form to perception.
Oceanus, the Titan of the Endless Seas, shaped the rivers and currents.
Crius, the Titan of the Cosmos, oversaw the constellations.
Coeus, the Titan of Wisdom, sought knowledge in the fabric of the universe.
Mnemosyne, the Titaness of Memory, recorded all that transpired.
But one Titan concerned Uranos more than all others.
"Kronos, the Titan of Time and Space."
Unlike his siblings, Kronos did not seek merely to shape the world. He questioned.
And questions were dangerous.
One day, Kronos came to his father.
"Father, if you rule the world, why do you not allow us to explore it?"
Uranos' golden eyes narrowed. "Because this world is fragile. If you wander too far, you may bring imbalance."
"But if we never move forward, how will we grow?"
Uranos said nothing.
But deep within him, fear grew.
"If they continue to grow, they may one day surpass me."
And so, he made a decision—one of cruelty and desperation.
"I will ensure that my rule lasts forever."
That night, as the Titans slept, Uranos reached down from the heavens with his boundless power.
And he forced them back into Gaia.
The Titans cried out in pain, their divine bodies crushed beneath the weight of the earth.
Gaia—their mother, the very world itself—screamed.
"You dare to force my children back into me? To use my body as a prison?!"
Her agony shook the land.
The mountains trembled.
The oceans roared.
The very sky darkened.
But Uranos did not yield. He held them there, buried within their own mother, for an eternity.
"The world felt her wrath."
And so, Gaia did something she had never done before—she forged a weapon.
"From her very bones, she created something new—an instrument of rebellion, of severance, of punishment."
A blade unlike any other. The Scythe of Kronos.
Gaia whispered into the earth, speaking to her imprisoned children.
"My children, hear me. One of you must rise. One of you must take this blade and strike down the tyrant who has forsaken you."
But fear gripped the Titans.
None dared move—except one.
"I will do it."
It was the youngest.
The boldest.
The one who questioned.
Kronos.
His siblings trembled.
"Kronos… if you fail, he will kill you."
Kronos smiled. "Then I simply will not fail."
And so, one fateful night, as Uranos lay upon Gaia, his golden body stretching across the heavens, Kronos struck.
The Scythe of Kronos cleaved through the sky, slicing through divine flesh.
And with one swift motion—he severed his father's manhood.
Uranos screamed—a cry that shook the very cosmos.
"Wretched child! You dare strike your own father?!"
Kronos did not flinch. "You ruled through fear. You shackled your own kin. You are no father—only a tyrant."
Blood spilled from Uranos, falling from the heavens like crimson rain. Where it landed, new horrors were born—beasts of war and monstrosities.
But Kronos was not done.
With his blade, he carved into the very fabric of the sky, sealing his father away.
"Begone, Sky King. From this moment forth, you shall watch the world from above but never again shall you touch it."
And so, Uranos was cast into the heavens—forever to be the sky itself.
Never again would he interfere with the world.
And in his place, Kronos became the new King of the Gods.