Kronos might already have forces stationed throughout the world.
Ambushes were possible.
Enemy patrols.
Powerful deities.
Even other major gods who remained loyal to the Titan King.
Sending weak or poorly organized groups into such territory would be foolish.
Aetherion nodded.
"Understood."
Metis acknowledged his answer before continuing to discuss the recruitment operation with the other leaders.
After the initial arrangements had been established, however, her expression gradually darkened.
"There is one more thing."
The atmosphere changed.
Metis slowly swept her gaze across the room.
"Every one of you must remain vigilant."
Her voice was no longer merely serious.
It carried a warning.
"As you all know, Kronos himself has yet to make a move."
Silence.
"And that fact alone is more terrifying than anything else."
Several deities exchanged uneasy glances.
They understood what she meant.
Kronos had not personally intervened in their first battle.
He had not appeared to save Pallas.
Nor had he personally pursued Aetherion after the Great Titan's defeat.
For someone who possessed such overwhelming power, his continued silence was deeply unsettling.
What was he planning?
Why was he holding back?
And more importantly…
What would happen when he finally decided to act?
Metis's eyes narrowed.
"Remember who we are dealing with."
She paused.
"Kronos is known as the Crooked One for a reason."
Her words echoed throughout the meeting room.
"He is cunning. Ruthless. And far more dangerous than any of us can afford to underestimate."
Her gaze moved from one deity to another.
"While you are recruiting, remain on your guard at all times."
She placed a hand upon the table.
"We do not know whether he will send one of the remaining Twelve Great Titans to intercept you."
Her expression became even more solemn.
"Or whether he will decide to appear himself."
A chilling silence followed.
Metis continued.
"And should that happen, he may very well reap your lives before you even have the opportunity to resist."
The warning sent a chill through the gathered immortals.
Even Aetherion felt the weight of her words.
He knew better than most just how terrifying the strongest deity could be.
He had fought Pallas.
He had faced Hyperion.
And Kronos stood above them both.
Far above.
Metis looked around the table one final time.
"Do you all understand?"
No one laughed.
No one made a joke.
The playful atmosphere that had filled the room earlier was completely gone.
Instead, solemn determination settled upon every face.
One by one, the gathered deities nodded.
They understood.
Their first victory had given them hope.
But hope alone would not defeat Kronos.
They needed strength.
More allies.
Preparation so they could achieve victory.
And above all…
They needed to survive long enough to challenge the Titan King himself.
With their next course of action decided, the leaders of the rebellion began preparing to put their plan into motion.
***
High above the world, upon the towering heights of Mount Othrys, stood a palace unlike any other.
The Palace of Time.
The seat of the King of the Cosmos.
A place where the very fabric of time seemed to bend beneath the will of its ruler.
Within its grand throne room, an overwhelming silence reigned.
The vast chamber stretched beyond what mortal eyes could comprehend, its towering pillars seemingly carved from the essence of eternity itself.
Ancient divine inscriptions adorned the walls, each radiating an authority that had endured since the earliest ages of Kronos reign.
And at the very end of the chamber...
Upon a throne that appeared to have been carved from a frozen moment in time itself...
Sat a man.
No.
A king.
A being whose name was known throughout the cosmos.
Mortals feared him.
Immortals revered him.
And even the mightiest of deities dared not speak his name without caution.
Kronos.
The King of the Titans.
The Sovereign of Time.
The Ruler of the Cosmos.
His wild black hair fell around his shoulders, framing a face that carried the arrogance and cold authority of one who had ruled for countless ages.
His golden eyes, tinged with an eerie madness, remained utterly still.
Cold.
Unyielding.
And release a domineering aura.
He did not need to release his divine power.
He did not need to speak.
His mere presence was enough to remind every being within the chamber of one undeniable truth.
He was their king.
Yet today, the throne room was different.
Eleven additional thrones stood within the chamber, arranged in two imposing rows on either side of Kronos's throne.
Five to his right.
Six to his left.
And upon these thrones sat beings whose names had been etched into the very history of the cosmos.
The Twelve Great Titans.
The supreme pillars of Kronos's reign.
Each possessed enough divine authority to bring an entire small planet to their knees.
Each commanded powers that ordinary gods could scarcely comprehend.
And together...
They represented the overwhelming might of the Titan King's dominion.
To Kronos's right, seated upon the throne closest to his own, was a towering figure whose very presence seemed to weigh upon the world.
Atlas.
One of Kronos's Four Great Generals.
A Titan whose immense strength was renowned throughout the cosmos.
Even while seated, his colossal frame radiated an oppressive sense of power, as though mountains themselves would tremble beneath his grasp.
Beside him sat Iapetus— also one of the four generals of Kronos—his expression was stern and unreadable, his ancient eyes reflecting the countless ages he had witnessed.
Next came Mnemosyne, the Titaness of Memory, whose calm and thoughtful gaze seemed to hold the history of the cosmos within it.
Following her was Perses, a formidable Titan whose presence carried an unmistakable aura of destruction.
And then...
An empty throne.
A throne that should never have been vacant.
A throne belonging to one of the Twelve Great Titans.
Pallas.
The Titan of Warcraft, Combat, and Weapons.
A warrior whose strength had once inspired terror across countless deity's hearts.
Yet now...
His throne stood empty.
Its master had fallen.
Slain in battle by a single individual.
Aetherion.
The son of Kronos himself.
The very child who had dared raise the banner of rebellion against the King of the Cosmos.
For the first time in history, one of the Twelve Great Titans had been defeated.
And the empty throne stood as a silent reminder of that humiliation.
On the opposite side of the chamber, closest to Kronos's left, sat another terrifying figure.
Hyperion.
One of Kronos's Four Great Generals.
The heavenly light that brightens the world.
The Titan's imposing presence radiated overwhelming divine power, his expression cold and severe.
He was among the most formidable beings in the cosmos, a warrior whose name alone was enough to inspire dread.
Beside him sat Coeus—the last member of the four generals of Kronos—his gaze sharp and contemplative, as though he were silently examining every possible outcome of the gathering.
Next came Crius, whose stern expression remained unchanged as he sat upon his throne.
Following him was Theia, the radiant Titaness whose divine beauty and regal bearing contrasted with the oppressive atmosphere surrounding her.
After her was Phoebe, the calm and observing Titaness, whose composure gave off a mystery air.
And finally...
Astraeus.
The Titan of the Stars and Dusk, whose quiet presence carried the mysteries of the heavens.
These were the rulers who had stood beside Kronos throughout his reign.
The Twelve Great Titans.
The mightiest pillars of the old order.
And today, they had gathered for one reason.
The rebellion.
A rebellion that had once seemed insignificant.
A rebellion led by the children of Kronos himself.
And a rebellion that had now accomplished something none of them had expected.
The death of a Twelve Great Titan.
Throughout the chamber, silence prevailed.
Some Titans sat with expressions of cold indifference.
Others appeared thoughtful.
A few carried traces of irritation.
Yet not one dared speak before their king.
For upon the throne at the center of them all...
Kronos remained motionless.
His golden eyes slowly swept across the assembled Titans.
One by one.
Until finally...
His gaze settled upon the empty throne.
Pallas's throne.
A heavy frown appeared on Kronos face for just a moment and disappeared just as fast.
For a moment, the atmosphere seemed to grow heavier.
Then—
Kronos spoke.
His voice was cold.
And filled with an authority that seemed to command the very passage of time.
"Let us begin."
The entire chamber seemed to fall still.
Kronos leaned forward ever so slightly, his gaze sweeping across the Twelve Great Titans once more.
"We have much to discuss concerning this so-called rebellion..."
His eyes narrowed.
"And those damned children of mine."