In the middle of the vast ocean, a swirling green portal opened above the waves.
From it stepped a young man—handsome and divine.
He was Aetherion.
He stood quietly for a moment, hovering above the endless sea, taking in the vast expanse before him.
He said nothing.
He didn't even think.
Instead, he simply breathed in, then out, letting the tension in his chest melt away in the salt-filled air.
Then, his eyes opened with quiet determination.
"All right," he said softly. "Let's begin."
In his Divine Form, Aetherion raised his hand and uttered a single word.
With a graceful sweep to the right, he commanded,
[Earth: let there be land.]
His voice echoed across the horizon, deep and resonant.
In response, the ocean stirred.
From the depths, earth surged upward.
The sea parted, and an island rose from beneath the waves as if it had always been meant to exist—ancient, yet newborn.
It emerged whole, as though the world had simply remembered it and welcomed it back.
But it was only earth—bare, untouched, and useless.
So he exits his divine form, standing bare in his base form.
Aetherion spoke again, his voice now stronger, pulsing with divine resonance:
[Nature: Nature beauty come forth.]
The island answered.
From its soil, vibrant forests burst forth, trees of silver and emerald stretching toward the sky.
Flowers bloomed in radiant hues, vines crept along the ground, and the air was filled with the scent of new life.
A clear river carved its way through the land, leading to a serene lake at the heart of the island.
Even a small mountain rose to the east, crowned with blossoms and wrapped in vines, as if kissed by time itself.
The world obeyed him, as if his breath had rewritten reality.
What he had done—speaking the incantation and conjuring earth and nature upon the island—was something he had learned from Themis and his mother, Rhea.
They had taught him that words and names hold power, and when spoken with intent, they can amplify a divine move—or more precisely, domain control—far beyond its normal limits.
This ancient truth lay at the heart of divinity itself.
that speech woven with purpose gives shape to miracles.
Afterward, he immediately began to center himself, focusing on all the positive energy flowing within him—the energy that gives rise to blessings.
A blessing, in its essence, is formed by a deity's benevolent intent, infused with their innate divine energy.
But Aetherion was pushing it further.
He wasn't just using his divinity—he was channeling one of his domains directly into the blessing, transforming it into something more profound.
A domain blessing , crafted not just by a deity, but by a sovereign of elemental power.
But he wasn't finished.
In a quiet flash of light, he shifted forms. His hair turned to shimmering silver, glowing like moonlight.
His eyes, too, reflected that pale, celestial fire.
Now in his Lunar Form, he raised his hand once more and whispered a sacred command:
[Moon… bestow thy blessing—Confinement in Peace.]
The light of the moon gathered above him and bathed the island in a mystical glow.
A great illusion fell upon the land, cloaking it in secrecy.
To mortal eyes, to gods, titans, and even Kronos himself—it vanished.
The island could no longer be seen, nor sensed.
Its presence was erased from memory, shielded by the moon's enchantment.
But he wasn't finished yet. Aetherion shifted back into his base form, his divine radiance dimming slightly as he prepared a new blessing—this time, drawing upon the sacred domain of Life itself.
[Life: Hear me. Grant thy blessing. Let all life upon this island remain unseen—
hidden in secrecy and peace.]
His words carried weight—divine command woven into existence.
At that very moment, every living being that would ever set foot upon this island, blessed and permitted by Aetherion, became undetectable to the outside world.
Even before, the island had been shielded by the Moon's illusion, making it nearly impossible to find—but now, he had taken it further.
This was no simple concealment. This was absolute obscurity, reinforced by Life itself.
The divine energy that flowed through the land became self-sustaining, concealing all presence within its bounds.
No aura could be sensed, no divine pulse could be traced.
Those who lived here would dwell in peace and safety, untouched by the eyes of gods or titans alike.
In that moment, Aetherion had created more than a sanctuary—
he had forged a paradise on Earth,
a realm where no deity could tread unless he himself willed it.
Surely, it was a miracle wrought by one alone—a work worthy of the gods.
Aetherion returned to his Earth Form, standing proudly over the hidden sanctuary he had forged.
He exhaled, smiling slightly.
"That was easier than I thought,"
he murmured, voice calm and self-assured.
Then, his smile grew into a cocky grin.
"Now… all that's left is for my siblings to come forth—and make this place their home."
With that, he turned his eyes toward the stars, while summoned an orb in his hand waiting and knowing the second phase of the plan was about to begin.
***
On the majestic mountain of Mount Ohrys, high within the palace of Rhea, in her sacred bedchamber, the Titaness Queen paced restlessly.
Her breath came in short bursts, rising and falling with anxious rhythm.
Panic coursed through her veins like wildfire.
She sat, then stood, then sat again—unable to settle as uncertainty gripped her heart.
She believed in the plan.
She truly did.
And yet… she couldn't silence the fear clawing at her spirit.
What if the plan fails?
What if Kronos sees through it?
What if everything they've built—all the hope, all the pain—falls apart?
'How pathetic am I…?'
she thought to herself.
She was the Queen of the Cosmos, a mighty Titaness, revered by all.
But right now, she was simply a mother—a woman who had lost too many children to the devouring hunger of her husband.
A woman who had no choice but to watch her firstborn son grow up in a realm she could not enter.
All those buried emotions now surfaced.
All the anguish.
All the grief.
All the guilt.
Still, she tried to calm her racing heart.
She thought of Aetherion—his smile, his strength, his comforting aura.
She thought of the day all her children would finally be free.
A small smile tugged at her lips, even as nerves danced within her chest.
She rose again and began to pace.
In the chamber with her stood three figures, each radiant in their own way, each watching their queen with quiet concern—and gentle smiles.
One was Amalthea, a divine beast, her golden horns gleaming, shoulder-length blonde hair cascading around imperial green eyes.
The second was Adrasteia, a forest nymph, her light green skin glowing, eyes blue like twilight through the leaves.
The third was Ida, the water nymph, graceful and serene, her skin and hair a mirror of ocean and sky.
These three had stood by Rhea's side through joy and torment.
Not just servants—companions, sisters, friends.
"Rhea, relax,"
Amalthea said, offering a reassuring smile.
"Everything will be fine."
"She's right, my lady,"
Ida added gently, her eyes filled with faith.
Adrasteia didn't speak, but simply nodded—her stance firm, like a warrior prepared for battle.
Rhea returned their smiles with a grateful nod.
But then—
Her stomach churned.
Her breath caught.
The moment had come.
The birth was beginning.
The plan… would now unfold.
Her heart pounded like thunder.
She looked at the three women, her expression suddenly serious, her voice firm.
"It's time. The plan begins now."
All three straightened at once, their own expressions shifting from soft to fear.
And as Rhea watched them, she felt a flicker of amusement break through her tension.
'Weren't they the ones trying to calm me just moments ago?'
Now look at them—tense as blades drawn.
A quiet laugh echoed in her mind, followed by renewed strength in her heart.
She summoned an orb into her hand and gazed into it, infusing it with a trace of her divinity.
"Let us commence, then."