The universe still trembled.
Even the constellations seemed to flicker, as if uncertain they should still exist. The sacrifice of Uranus — the first sky, the father of creation — had left the heavens hollow. Where the King of the Sky once dwelled, there was now only a silent scar in the cosmos.
Cronus stood at the edge of Olympus, overlooking a fractured horizon. The marble spires that had once pierced the stars were cracked and dim. His father was gone — devoured by the very singularity he had conjured.
Behind him, Hyperion emerged from a veil of light, his armor still glowing faintly from battle. "He's gone, Cronus," he said quietly. "The black hole collapsed. There's no trace of him… or the King of Erasure."
Cronus's expression didn't change. "No trace doesn't mean it's over. Nothing born from the void ever truly dies."
He turned, golden eyes burning like dying suns. "Summon them all. Every Olympian. Every Titan. The age of division ends today."
Hyperion nodded once. "It will be done."
⸻
The Conclave of the Divine
Minutes later, the Hall of Creation lit with godfire. One by one, the deities arrived — the sky trembling beneath their collective power.
Zeus entered first, his lightning subdued, face dark with confusion. Poseidon followed, quiet but wary, the scent of storms lingering around him. Then Athena, Apollo, Ares, and Artemis, each appearing in flashes of divine light.
Moments later, the Titans arrived. Hyperion, Iapetus, Themis, and Oceanus — their forms towering, ancient, and terrible in beauty. For the first time in an age, gods and titans stood in the same hall — neither in war nor in arrogance, but in mourning.
The silence was heavy. The absence of Uranus was felt by all.
Cronus's voice broke through the stillness.
"My father's final act sealed the King of Erasure beyond the event horizon. But it was no victory. That creature feeds on destruction — even now, it grows stronger in the void."
A low murmur rippled through the room.
Zeus stepped forward, his tone sharp. "You're saying Uranus's sacrifice was for nothing?"
Cronus's gaze snapped to him. "No. It bought us time. But unless we use that time wisely, everything he fought for will vanish."
Athena's voice cut through. "Then what do we do?"
⸻
The Call to Unity
Cronus stepped to the center of the hall.
"Uranus left us more than a sacrifice. He left us a plan. Before he vanished, he entrusted something vital — something that may be our only hope — to one of our own."
A murmur spread across the divine assembly.
Poseidon's brow furrowed. "Entrusted to whom?"
Cronus's golden eyes flickered. "Leonidas of Sparta."
At that name, Zeus frowned deeply. "A mortal warrior?"
Cronus's lips curved faintly. "Not merely mortal. Leonidas is no ordinary man — his soul was tempered in both war and loyalty. He stood with Megumi Valentine when the gods themselves abandoned him. Uranus saw that loyalty and placed within him the Orb of Balance — a fusion of divine and demonic energy, capable of restoring equilibrium between life and destruction."
Athena tilted her head, processing the weight of it. "So Uranus's final act wasn't just sacrifice. It was preparation."
Cronus nodded. "Exactly. The orb is both gift and curse — it can restore the balance of existence, but only through one who carries both divine blood and mortal heart."
Poseidon's eyes darkened. "Megumi Valentine."
Cronus met his gaze. "Yes. The boy who once defied fate."
⸻
The Fractured Pantheon
Zeus paced around the table, his voice thick with distrust. "You want to place the fate of gods in the hands of that cursed mortal again? The one whose rage nearly tore Olympus apart?"
Cronus didn't flinch. "The same mortal who stood against divinity itself and survived. The same mortal my father believed could unify light and darkness."
Lightning cracked along Zeus's arms. "He's broken! He's human again — powerless!"
"Perhaps," Cronus said calmly, "but the Orb can awaken him. It holds the essence of both heaven and hell — of Uranus himself. If Leonidas reaches him before the darkness consumes him, Megumi may yet rise."
Athena stepped forward, her expression sharp and thoughtful. "Then Leonidas must be protected. The orb cannot fall into the wrong hands."
Cronus inclined his head. "Agreed. Hyperion — you and Themis will accompany Poseidon. Find Leonidas. The boy's mortal body will not last much longer."
Poseidon folded his arms. "And you?"
Cronus looked toward the heavens — the place where his father once stood. "I'll summon the rest. The Olympians, the Titans, the Primordials if I must. We will forge a plan to end this once and for all. But until then, Leonidas must deliver the orb."
⸻
Doubt and Resolve
As the gods began to disperse, Zeus lingered. He watched Cronus in silence, the air crackling faintly between them.
Finally, he spoke. "You speak of unity, Father, but tell me this — if the boy fails, what then?"
Cronus's expression hardened. "Then we burn together. Gods, titans, and mortals alike. There will be no second war, no heavens to rule. Just nothing."
Zeus said nothing more.
With a flash of gold, he vanished, his thunder echoing faintly through the hall.
Hyperion approached Cronus, his golden armor glinting. "You think this mortal can do what Uranus could not?"
Cronus's gaze softened slightly. "I think my father saw in him what we lost — courage without pride. That may be what saves us."
He turned, staring once more into the void where Uranus had fallen.
"Father… I'll make sure your final hope doesn't die with you."
⸻
Meanwhile – The Mortal Plane
Far below Olympus, the air was thick with dust and blood.
Leonidas knelt beside Megumi's limp body, his armor scorched, his breath ragged. The Orb of Balance glowed faintly in his palm — pulsing, alive, waiting.
Megumi's chest barely rose. His golden eyes were dull now, his halo flickering faintly like a dying ember.
Leonidas looked toward the heavens — the last traces of Uranus's light fading beyond the stars. "You sacrificed everything… and left me this burden."
He looked back down at Megumi, his jaw tightening.
"Don't make it in vain, kid."
The orb's glow intensified, its light spilling across Megumi's body, threading into his veins like living fire.
Somewhere far above, Cronus felt the pulse of that energy — the spark of a dying mortal beginning to stir.