ALL NOVEL Chapter 13: WILL OF REBELLION
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On the summit of the sacred mountain, another seven years had passed, and the connection between heaven and earth had temporarily ceased.
The great God King, Ouranos, had indulged his desires to their fullest, only to fall into a restless boredom. He wandered the earth aimlessly, finding no amusement in the lives he had created or the worlds he had shaped. His children, once a source of entertainment, now languished, bound by his wrath.
Bereft of meaningful diversion, Ouranos wielded his divine power recklessly, bombarding the earth with destructive storms for his own fleeting amusement. Cities crumbled, forests burned, and rivers overflowed their banks, but his laughter echoed hollowly over the chaos.
When he finally departed, the world sighed in uneasy relief.
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Gaia remained on the mountaintop, her once-magnificent form now a shadow of itself. The vibrant glow of her body had dimmed, her immortal visage marred by exhaustion and age. She lay still, drawing what strength she could from the earth, but it was clear to her that time was slipping away.
The Titaness knew that action was no longer optional—it was inevitable. Deep within her body, where her twelve children lay imprisoned, Gaia directed her thoughts toward them.
"You see now," she began, her voice calm but laced with unyielding determination. "This is your father, the God King of Chaos. He has hurt me, imprisoned you, and ravaged the earth. When I fall into eternal sleep, you will remain here, forgotten and trapped between life and death."
Her words carried the weight of millennia, her hatred for Ouranos simmering beneath the surface. Yet, even as her voice grew colder, her gaze softened. She focused on her children, the last embers of hope flickering within her.
"I need a warrior," Gaia declared. "One of you must rise. The prophecy foretells it: The Heavenly Father will be overthrown by his own child. It is your destiny."
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The Cryptic Prophecy
The Titans stirred within her, their divine forms still shackled by fear. Rhea, hesitant but brave, was the first to speak.
"Mother, we are willing to aid you," she said, her voice trembling. "But the prophecy says, The eldest son is not the oldest. We do not fulfill this condition."
The other Titans murmured in agreement. For thousands of years, the prophecy's meaning had eluded them, and the words now felt like an insurmountable barrier.
"No," Gaia said firmly, her conviction unshaken. "You fulfill it more than you realize."
She had pondered the prophecy for centuries, but Ouranos's latest cruelties had brought clarity. The riddle's meaning, elusive for so long, had finally unraveled before her.
"The eldest son is not the oldest," Gaia repeated, her voice tinged with urgency. "Whoever agrees to my request will become the firstborn by choice, not by birthright. I will become pregnant again at the God King's command, and the position of the eldest will be reassigned."
The realization struck the Titans like a thunderclap. The prophecy had foretold not just the rebellion, but also the reshuffling of fate itself. Whoever dared to rise against Ouranos would reshape the divine hierarchy.
"But we lack weapons," Hyperion interjected, his voice steady but conflicted. "Even with our strength, we cannot strike down the God King without one."
Gaia nodded solemnly. "The weapon exists. The God King ensured that all weapons crafted by mortals or gods could be sensed by him. But I forged one in secret, using flint from the mountains. It was born not for war, but for the harvest. It is natural and untraceable—a creation of the earth itself."
The Titans fell silent. They had assumed the ally in the prophecy would be another god, or perhaps a primordial force like the seas or the mountains. Now they realized the ally was Gaia herself.
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Despite Gaia's impassioned plea, hesitation lingered. Among the Titans, oaths were sacred, and all had sworn loyalty to their father, however reluctantly. The thought of breaking that vow filled them with dread, even as they dreamed of liberation.
Cronus, the youngest of the Titans, had remained silent throughout. His siblings had long overlooked him, for Ouranos rarely directed his ire at him. His cunning had spared him from the God King's wrath, but it had also left him underestimated.
Now, Cronus spoke, his voice calm and resolute.
"I will do it," he said, stepping forward.
His siblings turned toward him in shock. Hyperion, the de facto leader, sneered.
"You've been planning this all along," he said accusingly.
Oceanus chuckled darkly. "Our youngest brother, the cunning one. Your ambition rivals even the prophets."
"Enough!" Gaia's voice rang out, silencing the murmurs. She turned to Cronus, her expression softening.
"My youngest child, are you certain of this?" she asked. "This path is fraught with danger, and the prophecy holds more secrets than even I understand."
Cronus met her gaze without hesitation. "Yes. I will wield the blade. But you must guide me, Mother. The sickle alone is not enough."
"You are right," Gaia replied. "I will seek the prophet in the depths of Hades. There, I will uncover the full truth of the prophecy."
She paused, her voice heavy with determination. "Prepare yourself, Cronus. The day of reckoning draws near."
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As Gaia prepared for her journey into Hades, Cronus took the sickle in his hands. The blade, unassuming yet brimming with latent power, seemed to hum in anticipation. His siblings watched in silence, their fear of Ouranos warring with their hope for freedom.
"Be ready," Gaia told them all. "When the moment comes, we will act as one. And the heavens will tremble beneath our might."
She turned her gaze eastward, toward the jagged maw of Hades that awaited her. The earth seemed to whisper her name, urging her onward.
And so, the rebellion began—not with a clash of arms, but with the first flicker of defiance.
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