The stars had not yet stopped trembling.
The Moon still shone brightly.
And life, and nature, still trembling on the earth.
Across the divine realms, a quiet unease swept through the fabric of the universe.
Something had shifted — not with war or destruction, but with birth.
A birth the world reacted to, something that has never happened before.
High in the throne room of Time's Throne, Kronos stirred.
He sat upon a seat carved from frozen moments, its shape ever-shifting, impossible to look at directly.
Around him, the air ticked.
Every breath he took echoed in the veins of his throne room.
He felt it. He knew.
"The child is born."
He had not gone to the mountain. He didn't need to.
After all, even without being there he could see it.
How some domains react to the child birth, something that never happened before to this extent.
Even Kronos himself, only the time in the room reacted when he was born.
The moment Rhea cried out in the high temple, Time recoiled, and Kronos felt the recoil in his spine.
It was not the excitement of fatherhood. It was the pain of prophecy awakening.
He stood, slowly, his frame immense, armored in divine silence.
His golden eyes narrowed, and the folds of his dark robes rippled as if caught in a storm only he could feel.
"The child," he muttered. "Is too dangerous."
Kronos couldn't help feeling fearful of the child's potential.
Especially after, that cursed whisper and prophesied from Uranus, his father, bleeding and dying across the sky:
"One of your blood… will do to you what you did to me."
He could hear Rhea's voice traveling through space and to his ears.
Aetherion.
That was his name. Even the sound of it made Kronos flinch.
He wasn't just a son — he was too quiet, too bright. The stars had moved.
The earth had stirred. No child should carry that kind of echo.
This was no newborn. This was an omen wrapped in flesh.
A manifestation of his own downfall.
And so, Kronos descended from his throne room.
***
Kronos stepped into the birthing hall like a storm made flesh.
Silence wrapped the room.
The handmaidens bowed low. The moon dimmed. The wind froze in the temple's arches.
Rhea raised her head with a beautiful smile on her lips and looked at Kronos' entrance.
Making eye contact with her husband— Rhea's smile froze as if Kronos himself had stopped the time in the room.
Rhea's grip on her son tightened, because of Kronos indifferent expression.
In Kronos' eyes there was no joy from the birth of their first child.
Panicked, Rhea stood from the bed and backed away, golden eyes wide with terror.
Her grip trembled—not because Aetherion was heavy, but because she had a feeling of what was coming.
Kronos approached with slow, deliberate steps.
"Give him to me,"
he said.
"Why,"
she whispered and took more steps back.
Kronos looked her in the eyes and forced an innocent smile onto his face.
"Can't a father hold his own son, Rhea? I want to see him up close."
Rhea didn't believe Kronos, especially when seeing that fake smile on his face.
"You say that, yet no warm is held in your eyes."
Kronos stood still, his smile slowly fading turning into a frown.
"Rhea, you remember Uranus' prophecy."
His voice cracked the air like a falling mountain. He stared at the child—at the soft glow in his eyes, the strange calm in his face.
Rhea, sensing Kronos eyes on Aetherion, pulls him close to her chest as if hiding him from the cruel world.
"The stars shifted when he was born,"
Kronos muttered.
"The earth trembled. This is no ordinary son."
He reached out.
Rhea screamed and turned away. But Kronos moved too fast.
He ripped Aetherion from her arms, holding the baby aloft with one hand, as if weighing his fate.
"You carry my ruined in your blood,"
he said.
"But I'll end you before it happens… find peace within me, my son."
He opened his mouth—too wide, inhumanly wide.
But before he could act—
Aetherion cried.
A wail—not mortal, but something more.
A sound made of soil and sky and sap.
A scream that didn't echo—it rooted.
The ground in the temple trembled.
Vines shot from the marble floor, flowering in seconds.
The floor split beneath Kronos's feet, glowing veins of green and brown light erupting in spirals.
"What—?!"
Kronos of guard stumbled.
Aetherion's star-shaped pupils flared, his entire body wrapped in a shimmering aura of earthlight and life-force.
And then—The air cracked.
The child disappeared.
Not blinked.
Teleported.
Swallowed not by Kronos—but by the Earth itself.
The ground sealed.
The vines curled back.
The light vanished.
And Kronos stood in the silence, holding nothing.
He roared in fury, shaking the mountaintop.
"WHERE IS HE?!"
But the mountain gave no answer.
Only a faint rustle of leaves.
A heartbeat in the soil.
***
First came rage.
Then after a while, Realization passed through his head.
And then Fear.
Fear from the unknown.
Fear from the prophecy.
That is what Cronus, the King of the Cosmos felt.
He couldn't help but think about the child that managed to escape his grabs.
He looked around the room. And immediately, he was about to yell out to look for his son.
But then,
BANG!
Cronus was sent flying out of the room.
No, out of the whole temple.
And in his place was a woman.
Pink hair. Golden eyes. Glimmering like stars.
It was Rhea.
Rhea with a face as if a demon had broken through her mind and was about to destroy everything.
She couldn't help but think how much hatred she felt right now.
Maybe it was the influence of her domain — motherhood turned feral. But all she could think of was hitting Kronos. Over and over.
All she was desiring right now was about hurting Kronus.
Even if she knew that she wasn't strong enough.
She knew Kronus could easily defeat her.
But at least she wanted to make sure to give him pain.
And punch that fucking face of his!