Aetherion stood in an entirely new form, having entered the Divine Form of the Stars.
His appearance had changed once again, but this transformation was unlike his Moon or Earth domains.
His dark green tunic and cloak had turned into pure ivory, speckled with countless golden specks of light, as if the stars themselves were woven into the fabric.
His once gold hair streaked with green was now a radiant, brilliant gold, dusted with tiny white specks—mirroring the stars embedded in his clothing.
As his hair flowed in the wind, a crown of pure golden radiance rested upon his head.
At its center was a white star—compressed countless times—radiating overwhelming light in the center of the crown's.
Aetherion's eyes sparkled, his star-shaped pupils glowing with celestial brilliance.
He looked utterly regal and magnificent, as though the very space around him existed to be ruled by his presence.
The world itself had changed.
Aetherion's power—and the Parallel expansion he had activated—had evolved.
This was a technique he had deliberately trained during the fifteen years spent hiding from his father's wrath.
It was different from anything he had used before.
By combining his Star Domain with Parallel Expansion, he had created something unprecedented: a realm of his own rule, fully fused with his domain.
It was confusing in nature, yet absolute in effect—an entirely new world where Aetherion himself was favored and empowered by the very laws of the domain he had used to create this expansion.
Above them, countless stars filled the sky.
The scenery was no longer reminiscent of the outside world; instead, it was a realm wholly his own.
Several compressed stars hovered nearby, radiating immense pressure.
Aetherion noticed Pallas watching them carefully, wary of their potential to explode—yet with him removing his helmet, Pallas was still grinning.
The space around them was pitch-black. There was no sun, no moon—only stars illuminating the void.
It felt as though they were drifting through space itself, save for the earth still beneath their feet.
It was disorienting, breathtaking, and utterly unreal.
Aetherion turned his gaze toward Pallas, irritation clear in his expression.
"I was played,"
he said flatly, suppressing his emotions.
Pallas chuckled.
"Yes. Yes, you were."
Aetherion continued, his voice cold.
"I honestly thought you weren't that clever, Pallas. I expected this to go far more smoothly. I assumed you would simply follow my plan—but it seems I was wrong."
Annoyance seeped into his tone without him noticing.
Pallas met his gaze, a cruel smile spreading across his face.
"You can hide it all you want, boy, but I can see the frustration oozing out of you."
He laughed softly, eyes locked onto Aetherion's.
"How naive. Did you truly think I wouldn't do something like this? Did you believe my pride would hold me back?" His smile sharpened. "Pride doesn't win wars. Sacrifice does. And today, my pride is the price I pay for victory."
Spreading his arms, Pallas looked at Aetherion, whose eyes widened slightly.
"Now, I don't care about you. Victory is already mine." Pallas continued calmly. "Soon, my companions will arrive. Perhaps even Kronos himself. And when they do, your days are over."
He shook his head mockingly.
"To think you believed you could defeat a Great Titans alone. How laughable."
Pallas lowered his arms and took a fighting stance.
"Come. Let's see if you can beat me before the others arrive."
Aetherion stepped forward, a faint grin appearing on his lips.
"I did get played," he admitted. "But I believe I can defeat you within that time."
Pallas' expression flickered with surprise.
And then—
Where Aetherion had stood, there was nothing but a star.
Before Pallas could react, a devastating blow struck his head, sending him flying across the realm Aetherion had created.
"I will defeat you,"
Aetherion's voice echoed coldly.
"No—before they arrive, I will kill you."
That was the last thing Pallas heard before he was hurled through the star-filled domain.
***
The moment Pallas entered his divine form, it could be felt throughout the world.
No matter who it was, everyone sensed the overwhelming, blessed power radiating from him—and Metis was no exception.
As a Titaness who had herself achieved a divine form, it was no surprise that she could feel it.
But more importantly, she was the supreme strategist of the rebellion against Kronos.
The moment that power erupted, countless thoughts raced through her mind.
'Kronos may act now,'
Metis thought.
As the Titaness of wisdom, knowledge, planning, and craft—especially planning—Metis never relied on a single path to victory.
Every strategy she devised had layers, contingencies, and fail-safes.
Even if a plan failed, another would immediately take its place.
And so, she already had a follow-up prepared.
Kronos may send someone… or even appear himself, she considered.
But then her eyes flickered with sharper focus as she analyzed the flow of plans more precisely, as divinity shines in her ruby eyes.
'No. He will not appear on Aetherion's battlefield.'
The strands of possibility shifted rapidly in her mind—one, two, several branching outcomes.
'Most likely, someone would be dispatched to observe the situation first.'
After all, even if something had gone wrong, Pallas had already entered his divine form.
That alone might reassure Kronos that victory was assured.
Still, uncertainty remained.
And uncertainty demanded preparation.
Metis turned her gaze toward a goddess of extraordinary beauty.
She had mysterious black eyes speckled with faint white dots, as if tiny stars resided within them.
Her long hair, a deep violet so dark it was nearly black, flowed down to her waist.
Tall and striking, with a flawless, commanding presence, she embodied celestial elegance.
This was Asteria—the Titaness of Stars, Prophecies, and Nocturnal Magic.
She had not yet appeared on any battlefield.
The reason she did not appear on any battlefield was simple: it was Metis's order.
She wanted assurance that, if anything went wrong, she could summon Asteria to any battlefield—especially Aetherion's—at a moment's notice.
Metis had already accounted for the possibility that the plan might fail, and as such, she kept Asteria as insurance, ensuring that victory would still prevail.
Metis studied her carefully, then turned to the rebellion's messenger goddess, Iris.
"Asteria," Metis said calmly but firmly, "I need you to go to Aetherion's battlefield and observe. Do not interfere unless it becomes absolutely necessary."
Asteria smiled—an enchanting, knowing smile.
"If the Supreme Strategist commands it, then it shall be done,"
she replied serenely.
Before Astraea could depart, Metis turned to Iris.
"You will accompany Asteria and assist her if the situation demands it."
Iris blinked in surprise but quickly nodded.
"Ah—yes. Understood."
Though slightly flustered, she accepted the order without hesitation.
Asteria gave Iris a reassuring smile.
Iris still felt a trace of nervousness about what awaited them—but before she could dwell on it, Asteria raised her hand.
In an instant, both goddesses vanished.
Metis watched the space where they had stood for a moment longer, then returned her attention to the countless battlefields unfolding across the world—already forming new strategies, new contingencies, and new paths to victory.