Olympus had never felt so quiet.
Cronos stood at the balcony of the celestial palace, gazing out at the endless sky stretched over the realm of the gods. He had walked this path before—eons ago when the stars were still young. But now, it all felt foreign. Olympus had changed.
Or perhaps… he had.
Behind him, the thrum of voices echoed. The Olympians and the freed titans sat at a long obsidian table in tense silence. Conversations were hushed, suspicious eyes flicked toward him like daggers.
Cronos said nothing.
He was no longer here to rule.
He was here to watch.
Just as Megumi had ordered.
The doors opened with a soft hum, and Zeus entered.
The sky god had changed too—his robes slightly dimmer, his lightning crown lacking its usual spark. He stopped beside Cronos and stood in silence for a long moment.
"…Father," Zeus finally said. "I don't know what to say."
Cronos didn't turn his head.
"I never thought the day would come when you apologized."
Cronos let out a slow breath. His voice came quiet—unlike the thunderous wrath he once wielded.
"I've had thousands of years to think," Cronos replied. "Locked away. Forgotten. Left to rot in a pit built to hold monsters like me."
He paused.
"I was a tyrant. I devoured my children. I waged war on the heavens. But even the urge to conquer fades, eventually."
Zeus glanced over at him, waiting, uncertain.
Cronos finally turned, his golden eyes not glowing with rage—but with something older. Weary. Human.
"I often asked myself, in Tartarus," Cronos said, his voice barely above a whisper. "What would our family have been… if I had simply passed the throne? If I had not let fear guide me? If I had just let go?"
Zeus didn't answer immediately.
"I don't know," he said, after a pause. "Maybe the world would've been better. Or worse. But you'd still be our father."
Cronos gave a half-smile.
"That word used to mean nothing to me."
He turned to look at the gods and titans gathered at the table—Poseidon watching grimly, Hades cloaked in shadow, Ares sharpening his blade, Hephaestus fiddling with armor, and Aphrodite silent and distant.
They were his legacy.
And his shame.
He stepped forward.
The table quieted.
"I will not lie to you," Cronos said. "I do not serve Olympus. I serve the will of the Fallen King. Not because I am forced… but because I have seen what we have become."
Some of the gods flinched. Others clenched fists.
"I will spy. I will listen. And if need be, I will betray you all—for him."
He looked up, his golden eyes flashing faintly.
"Because unlike us, he never forgot what pain feels like. He remembers loss. He does not sit on his throne and cheer while innocents burn."
Zeus didn't stop him.
Because deep down… he knew it was true.