"Every time we tread upon these damned grounds, I cannot help but praise Hades." Athena's voice echoed against the wailing caverns of Tartarus.
Poseidon, whose brows were scrunched in concentration, was finally broken. Under the dim glow of the cavernous dark, deep set eyes turned to regard Athena's comment. He hummed in response and turned back to the task at hand.
"I see."
"Do you not praise him so?" Athena shifted her shield in her hands, a habit that did not form out of discomfort but reflected her state of mind. She felt out of place but at the same time, felt at rest.
"In the depths of a realm forgotten by the denizens of Earth, hidden beneath layers of soil and rock, lay the Underworld. Forgotten by time and untouched by human presence yet, all will frequent this realm at some time. How can I not praise my brother? The Underworld may be devoid of life yet simultaneously, I see it teeming with energy."
'In fact, not a single living being had entered the realm of the departed.'
"Folded within the immortal soils, the whispers of souls that had treaded upon these barren lands had cursed the very fabric of it. But that order would be disrupted in the form of cupid-struck champions or naïve ambition filled fools." Poseidon's jaw was clenched, somehow feeling at loss when entering the cold realm's of his brother.
"These mortals would threaten the very existence of the Underworld through the life they exhibit. Formless, unpredictable and so malleable." Athena answered in turn, thinking about the many mortals that she had encounters with.
Unlike her fellow Olympians, Athena loved her worshippers. It may not seem like it at times but even her wrath was done out of a place of love. Many think the Gods to be inherently evil for their deeds regardless, they created the worlds, nature and its order.
It was their reflection, perfect yet imperfect so that the humans would not taste the intoxication of power. Many attempted but were quickly struck by the wraths of their Gods.
But the King of the Underworld was the most different. All Olympians knew that Hades was a patient man but not one to tolerate irrational motives. His realm was an extension of his very being, though he did not roam the mortal realms nor the realms of the Gods unless there was a need for him to do as such but, what he had dominion over was his treasure.
Everything was meticulously crafted, from a measly soul stone lying on the cold floor to the decrepit rivers of Styx. Each component of the underworld was in conversation with each other, and this was his divine reflection of nature.
And encroaching upon these unholy grounds were a couple of Gods. Poseidon of the Seas and Athena, the ever-wise, cautiously treaded upon the inner-sanctums of Tartarus. The silence allowed their senses to attune itself to the eerie echoes that enveloped the air.
Constantly the two felt as if there was a suffocating presence in the air. Akin to Zeus's wrath, the sentiment was very much the same albeit, this pressure felt primordial. If there existed a being that could contest Zeus's presence, it would very much be Hades, much to Poseidon's chagrin. The darkness was oppressive, wrapping around them like a suffocating cloak, broken only by faint glimmers of light reflecting off damp walls.
The two could not comprehend whether light existed within the Underworld but upon closer inspection, Athena found gems carrying within their translucent bodies, a phantom glow.
As they ventured deeper into the heart of the cavern, a symphony of echoes greeted their ears. The persistent drops of water fell from stalactites, resounding against the ancient stone floor, their rhythmic melody creating an unsettling harmony.
Each step they took was marked by a soft squelching sound, the grimy earth clinging to their war-torn sandals. The dampness permeated the air, mingling with the earthy scent and adding an extra layer of discomfort to their journey.
As the couple proceeded, the cavern gradually began to reveal its secrets. Its walls, once rough and jagged, gave way to a vast expanse, stretching out into the impenetrable, silent darkness.
The once narrow passage transformed into a grand chamber, its ceiling vanishing into obscurity. They felt as if they were standing in the hollowed belly of a slain colossal, a forgotten titan hidden from the world above.
It was as if the broken corpse of Atlas lay underneath their feet. His last breath, a testament of his relief from eternal torment, was as cold as his bitter hate for the Olympians. The temperature would plummet as they ventured further, each breath visible in the frigid air.
Patches of ice clung stubbornly to the cavern floor, their delicate formations glimmering faintly under the dim light. Poseidon and Athena treaded carefully, their sandals crunching softly on the frozen ground, their breath misting in the icy air.
As they ventured deep, the two did not realize that their shoulders were plastered against each other. When they had huddled closer, they did not know. The question was swimming on the surface of their hues, each staring at each other as if decrypting the concept of temperature itself.
"Can Gods feel the cold?"
"Well, it is Tartarus. The King of Titans and Time itself is imprisoned within these caverns," The two drew close and shared each other's warmth.
The crystals radiated an otherworldly luminescence, casting an eerie and haunting light upon the cavernous walls. It guided the two towards their destination. The entrance to Kronos's cell.
The two couldn't help but be simultaneously enchanted and disturbed by the emptiness of the halls. In the absent echoes, there was the presence of Hades's eyes. The fear of his ire kept the dead denizens from the area but it was agreed amongst all to never approach the imprisoned Titan. For really only a fool would ever dare to incite his wrath willingly…because despite what everyone else thought? He was the calmest of the Three brothers…but his wrath was more legendary than even Zues's wrath could be because it was not often he lost his temper.
So with each step, there was an unshakable sense of foreboding that clung to their thoughts. It was as if the very essence of the halls whispered warnings to their souls, reminding them of the ancient secrets it held and the power it possessed.
"Here." Poseidon stood still, a single digit pointing at a gargantuan stone door. "We have arrived yet; I feel as if we have not. Cronos, though chained, his power leeks through."
Athena understood. Poseidon did not need to continue for when she craned her neck to study the stone and moss, there leaked a strange energy imitating waves of heat. It warped not only the very air of Death and Life but it tampered with the two. Amalgamating the two into a cacophony of thoughts and concepts that was primordial in form. It was so potent that the two Gods were affected by its putrid stench.
The two began to question the very passing of time. Were the two standing in Tartarus or were they standing in front of the dilapidated Pantheons that were once celebrated?
"Do you hear that?" Poseidon's voice was low, somewhat quivering in what Athena could assume was awe.
And suddenly, she could hear it too. Prayer?
Is that prayer that I hear?
"Athena, I can hear your thoughts. Please stop thinking, I need to hear it again. The humans…."
Athena was flabbergasted at Poseidon's candidness. He wasn't the man to selflessly share his desires and now, he was blathering like a mad man!
"Poseidon, cease!"
What can I cease?
Athena heard his voice flutter in the deep recesses of her mind. Yes truly, how can Dionysus cease from taking pleasure or Apollo from guiding the sun's brilliance? The Gods perform feats of miracles for the sake of retaining herculean balance for the mortals who have forgotten them over time.
The Gods of Olympia asked for no favors. They needed no favors, but the brazen attitudes of mortals began to anger Athena. As time flew, so did the faith of the mortals. In each age, humans began to construct their little playthings. From fire, food, electricity, weapons, and medicine. The little critter's attempted to reflect the natural gifts of the Gods, attempting to cease it and polish it.
The audacity of the mortals angered her. Of course, there were some mortals who remained faithful and humble, celebrating their state of temporality. These mortals submitted themselves to the God's who in turn gained their favor in the form of immortal gifts.
My Athena! O, Athena! I implore, I am your servant. I kiss thine feet and your gifts. Why hath you forsaken me!
Athena began to hear a familiar voice. The voice of a maiden whose voice was lost in the test of the Fates and Time. Her voice was haunting yet comforting; a bittersweet nectar that she once bathed in.
No, it cannot be.
"My child, you stand and question the concept of the Universe in front of its child and guardian."
Cronos's voice boomed. The two did not when Tartarus had risen from its slumber and swallowed the two God's whole. It was then the two Gods sensed the lack of Hades's design. His order did not exist in the belly of the shadows. If Olympus was nine stratospheres above the mortal plane, then Tartarus was below Hades's reign.
The space refused to acknowledge the two God's and their status. The magnitude of human ignorance could not match the acrid ire of the beings that resided within the depths of the forgotten abyss.
"What do you wish for, my children?" Cronus's voice ripped the very fabric of existence in Tartarus, the space rippled in tandem with the Titan's mood. "Do you wish for power? For freedom? For repentance?"
Like the water that would dance under the influence of jolly nymphs, the excitement in the chamber buzzed. Cronos knew why the two were here, Athena could sense the electrifying buzz of encroaching freedom. Her body was blushing from the very aspect of it when the emotion wasn't hers to begin with. When she tried to look at Poseidon, he was nothing but the shape of water.
The body of the water was shimmering with colors that even she could not comprehend. The only thing that she could think of was when the sun would set over the Sea God's realm; a moment of beauty created for the Gods and Humans. A moment when the Heavens, Earth and the Underworld were aligned.
It was then that the two were reminded of Cronos's power. They had foolishly entered a place where time and space ceased to exist, a pocket of existence outside the boundaries of reality. As they gazed around, an overwhelming sense of heaviness settled within their sternum, as if an invisible weight pressed upon their every thought.
The chamber itself was an anomaly—a paradoxical fusion of darkness and light. It seemed to be made of an obsidian-like substance, its surface reflecting the feeble glimmers of an unknown source of illumination. Shadows danced and twisted upon the walls; their movements fluid yet unpredictable. The atmosphere held an eerie stillness, broken only by Cronos's existence.
Confusion gripped their minds, for their senses were ill-prepared to comprehend the fluxing environment that surrounded them. Gravity seemed arbitrary, pulling them in unfamiliar directions as if it was playing with them like satyrs with their flutes.
Each time they blinked; the very essence of the chamber seemed to transform and so did they. It shifted from oppressive darkness to blinding light, blurring the boundaries between reality and illusion. Their vision wavered, unable to discern between what was truly there and what was conjured by their own bewildered minds.
In this timeless abyss, whispers of forgotten knowledge and distant memories brushed against their consciousness, leaving a lingering trace of longing and melancholy. They could almost grasp profound truths and elusive secrets, but the ethereal nature of their surroundings eluded their grasp, slipping away like whispers in the wind.
"This is only but a modicum of my power. I was to walk the mortal realm, until I was told of a usurper. As Zeus is to you, so he was to me. A mere usurper, a shattered reflection of a king who is far too dependent upon his subjects."
Poseidon and Athena stood silent. They felt an unspoken connection, a bond forged in the face of the inexplicable force that was the king of the Titans. The two felt a magnetic pull from the skeletal being who was merging into the bellies of Tartarus whom wished to get rid of the cancer within its belly.
Their shared vulnerability and curiosity served as a tether, grounding them amidst the ever-shifting maelstrom that was Cronos's loneliness.
"For eons, I have watched the world above. Zeus think's himself clever, chaining his father into the belly of the abyss but, this realm is a part of me. It is I, and I am it. I know what has happened, my children."
Poseidon and Athena watched as the amorphous figure groaned, invisible chains singing a cacophony that could rival the anger of banshees.
"The mortals, they have grown as Zeus has. Proud bellied and disrespectful of his maker. With their so-called technologies in their hands, they dare to think that the World revolves around their greed. They are a shattered reflection of all of you, my children."
With hesitant steps and hearts filled with a blend of trepidation and wonder, they approached Cronos who seemed to be deep in thought. The only source of illumination became Poseidon's body whose body held captive the light of the sun and bioluminescent sea flora. It reflected a mere crack on Cronos's grayed skull, patches of skin were peeling from it as if it were mere leather.
"The humans polished the art of thinking and articulating. Just as Zeus had learned from me. All of them are nothing but babes grasping for the sun. But, my children, if that is true then who are you?"
The shadows whispered secrets, and the light offered glimpses of ancient truths that flowed in Cronos's speech. In this realm beyond time and space, their spirits intertwined, forging a bond that would transcend the boundaries of the strange and beautiful realm they found themselves in.
At that moment, Cronos held up his head towards his children. The two were so small, like fragile dandelions to an Elephant yet, Cronos looked to them with respect. The Titan knew that his children had approached them with an ultimatum. As the humans would say, 'You scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours.' Despite his constrained circumstances, Chronos remained resolute, exuding an air of enigmatic composure in front of Poseidon and Athena.
With ethereal chains wrapped tightly around him, the God of Time stood tall amidst the perpetual darkness. His piercing gaze, which carried the weight of eons, surveyed the void that enveloped him. The faint glimmer of hope burned within his eyes, for he knew that his salvation lay in the hands of his offspring, the children he had begotten from the fabric of time itself.
Addressing the silent shadows that loomed in the cave, Chronos cleared his throat, his voice resonating with a melodic timbre that defied the void's oppressive grip.
"In the stillness of this timeless abyss, I stand before you, my kin. Shackled, yet undeterred, for I am the eternal keeper of the cosmic tapestry. Today, I speak to you not as a prisoner, but as a harbinger of emancipation. "Free me, my children. The age of enlightenment will be revived."
Though his words held a calm veneer, a trace of anticipation seeped into his voice, betraying his true excitement. Chronos, the God of Time, had long yearned to traverse the realms of existence unhindered, to witness the dance of creation and annihilation without the chains of his own design. The prospect of freedom ignited a fire within him that no darkness could extinguish.
"Time, my cherished offspring, has birthed countless wonders and witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations," Chronos continued, his words imbued with ancient wisdom. "It is the great equalizer, the impartial judge of all things. But even the master of time can be ensnared by its own creation. Yet, fear not, for destiny has ordained this moment of liberation."
The shadows seemed to stir, as if acknowledging their impending role in the unfolding cosmic drama. Chronos raised his chained hands, his fingers brushing against the ethereal restraints that bound him.
With a quiet confidence, he declared, "You, my children, bear the weight of my divine legacy. The strands of time that flow through your veins hold the key to my liberation. Together, we shall rend the fabric of eternity and unleash its hidden potential."
As his words reverberated through the cavern, whispers of time itself began to echo within the void, a murmuring symphony of forgotten moments. The anticipation grew, not only within Chronos but also among his children who yearned to witness their god freed from the shackles that had held him captive for far too long.
In the final moments of his speech, the Titan of Time's cool façade began to crack, revealing the raw anticipation that welled up within him.
"My beloved descendants, the hour of our triumph approaches," he proclaimed, his voice tinged with a surge of exhilaration. "Together, we shall reclaim the boundless expanse of time, and I shall traverse its realms once more, unchained and unbounded!"
With those words, he raised his fist in the air in a grand gesture. The very fabric of the timeless cavern quivered with the force of the action, as if trembling in anticipation of imminent liberation. The shackles that encased Chronos seemed to shimmer, their ethereal bonds weakening under the combined might of his children's intrinsic connection to the ever-unfolding tapestry of existence.
In that cavernous expanse, where time dared not venture, a Titan of timeless power stood poised on the precipice of emancipation. And as his children rallied around him, hope surged through the heart of Chronos, the Titan of Time, for he knew that soon, very soon, the eternal chains would shatter, and he would be free once more.