Kronos wasn’t enjoying himself – he wasn’t a sadist – but he also wasn’t bothered by his casual slaughter of the enemy combatants. Humans were fodder and slaves for the titans, and these humans, having sided with the treacherous dissident, Prometheus, didn’t even warrant that much regard. Ultimately, they were just pawns in what had been a long war of attrition. Their deaths were numbers that Kronos had tallied in his head as a metric for the balance of power on every battlefield. Based on the day's running estimate, he decided his tactics were inefficient. He’d routed numerous groups of soldiers, only to see the survivors regroup and advance again through the blackened remains of the forest he had incinerated when he wiped out Kasios's army.
Kronos flew back behind the battle lines to his personal camp and retrieved his massive bronze club. The brief withdrawal took but a moment, and then he was back on the battlefield. He searched for a good place to start, and finally found it – a detachment of soldiers had taken a small hill, their archers raining death down upon Kronos’s men in the fields below while their hoplites held back the tide with their broad shields. Kronos knew he would need to take the archers out first – Prometheus had doubtlessly furnished them with iron or steel arrowheads. Kronos could easily dominate anything within arm’s reach, but he couldn’t dodge a dozen arrows at once, and while he could use his remarkable new powers to reduce the young men shooting at him to doddering old fools or even dusty corpses, he hadn't the precision to do so without inflicting the same fate on his own troops.
Kronos circled in the smoke above the men and then fell upon them. He shifted away his wings, hardened his skin, and increased his size as much as he was able to. He landed in the middle of the archers, crushing three under his feet, and scattering the rest with a violent shockwave. A band of Prometheus’s human soldiers rallied around one of their champions and charged at Kronos with lowered spears. He knocked their champion aside with his massive bronze mace, and then brought the weapon down in a powerful overhead slam. Although the mace broke under the impact, the shockwave shook the ground so hard that the charging men stumbled and tripped over one another. Kronos pressed his advantage; he grabbed one of the soldiers in one hand and ripped the steel-tipped spear from his grip. Kronos crushed his victim's chest, the man splurting blood and broken bone like juice and seeds flung from a violently crushed tomato. Kronos angrily threw the ruptured corpse at its former comrades, knocking down two that had managed to get back to their feet. He strode over the prone men with the stolen spear and began unceremoniously driving it into their bodies as if he were spearing fish. One stuck to the end of the pole and Kronos flung the spear – man and all – across the battlefield. Terror spread, and Kronos felt a surge of vitality as more of Prometheus’s men lost their courage and fled from the battle.
He began stomping the remaining men to death. In this form, Kronos weighed in at nearly three thousand pounds, heavy enough to turn a man into a bloody smear with even gentle pressure. Driving his feet down upon them, they burst – gory red explosions beneath each step that spread more fear. Many of the surviving men begged for his forgiveness and mercy, submitting to his will.
Reveling in the terror and submission of his enemies, Kronos allowed his attention to wander briefly from the battlefield. A sharp pain struck his abdomen, and Kronos looked down to see one of the human soldiers driving a steel-tipped spear through his nigh invulnerable skin. Kronos simply swatted the man away, pulled the spear out, and skewered him with it. The stink of fear permeating the battlefield would heal the injury quickly.
Kronos looked over to the other end of the valley – his human warriors weren’t faring well against the steel weapons of Prometheus’s soldiers, and that wasn't even accounting for the newly forged titans that led them. Prometheus's treachery had transformed two human soldiers into titans - worse, into Legacy Bearers. It was unprecedented, but its fascinating contribution to their understanding of gene-editing nanotechnology was more than a bit overshadowed by how incredibly lethal they'd become. The two humans were larger now, of course, they certainly had the stature of a titan, but as Kronos watched, he saw them use no amazing special abilities, or even any of the standard fair powers any half-wit titan could access.
Kronos circled in the smoke above the men and then fell upon them. He shifted away his wings, hardened his skin, and increased his size as much as he was able to. He landed in the middle of the archers, crushing three under his feet, and scattering the rest with a violent shockwave. A band of Prometheus’s human soldiers rallied around one of their champions and charged at Kronos with lowered spears. He knocked their champion aside with his massive bronze mace, and then brought the weapon down in a powerful overhead slam. Although the mace broke under the impact, the shockwave shook the ground so hard that the charging men stumbled and tripped over one another. Kronos pressed his advantage; he grabbed one of the soldiers in one hand and ripped the steel-tipped spear from his grip. Kronos crushed his victim's chest, the man splurting blood and broken bone like juice and seeds flung from a violently crushed tomato. Kronos angrily threw the ruptured corpse at its former comrades, knocking down two that had managed to get back to their feet. He strode over the prone men with the stolen spear and began unceremoniously driving it into their bodies as if he were spearing fish. One stuck to the end of the pole and Kronos flung the spear – man and all – across the battlefield. Terror spread, and Kronos felt a surge of vitality as more of Prometheus’s men lost their courage and fled from the battle.
He began stomping the remaining men to death. In this form, Kronos weighed in at nearly three thousand pounds, heavy enough to turn a man into a bloody smear with even gentle pressure. Driving his feet down upon them, they burst – gory red explosions beneath each step that spread more fear. Many of the surviving men begged for his forgiveness and mercy, submitting to his will.
Reveling in the terror and submission of his enemies, Kronos allowed his attention to wander briefly from the battlefield. A sharp pain struck his abdomen, and Kronos looked down to see one of the human soldiers driving a steel-tipped spear through his nigh invulnerable skin. Kronos simply swatted the man away, pulled the spear out, and skewered him with it. The stink of fear permeating the battlefield would heal the injury quickly.
Kronos looked over to the other end of the valley – his human warriors weren’t faring well against the steel weapons of Prometheus’s soldiers, and that wasn't even accounting for the newly forged titans that led them. Prometheus's treachery had transformed two human soldiers into titans - worse, into Legacy Bearers. It was unprecedented, but its fascinating contribution to their understanding of gene-editing nanotechnology was more than a bit overshadowed by how incredibly lethal they'd become. The two humans were larger now, of course, they certainly had the stature of a titan, but as Kronos watched, he saw them use no amazing special abilities, or even any of the standard fair powers any half-wit titan could access.
Yet, despite the fact that they were fighting like preadolescent children, they were sawing through his troops with shocking speed. They moved like the waters of a flash flood, careening about the battlefield and destroying everything in their path. Kronos wondered if this was simply what happened when one created a titan from a human, or if this was only the prelude to a worse challenge to come. They'd routed him once before in combat, leaving him hesitant to fight them again, but if their powers were evolving, then the next time they met, Kronos might have little chance of defeating them.
As Kronos re-evaluated his strategy, another sharp pain struck the back of his lower leg, this one burning with such heat it brought him down on one knee. He swatted behind him clumsily; his attacker was an assassin, armed with a Promethean blade and concealed by the cacophony and smoke of the battlefield. The assassin ducked under Kronos’s swing and stabbed him again. The pure iron penetrated Kronos’s rock-hard flesh as if it were nothing. The skin around the wound burned and cracked as the assassin twisted the knife. The blood in the titan king’s wound sizzled. Kronos rolled over and kicked the assassin with one of his mighty feet, tossing him twenty yards away, but the blade remained lodged, burning in the back of his leg, and two more assassins emerged from the black smoke with their own iron weapons.
Kronos struggled to pull the iron weapon from his leg, but it seared his hand with each touch. Finally, he gritted his teeth, wrapped his fingers around the weapon tightly, and ripped it out. He threw it at one of the assassins, but the seared flesh of his hand stuck slightly to the weapon, making the throw a clumsy one. He focused his mind on the injury, trying to use his powers to heal it through force of will, but this further weakened him and caused him to shrink back to his natural size as the soldiers closed in on him. They raised their iron weapons, ready to butcher him like a slaughtered hog.
Kronos struggled to pull the iron weapon from his leg, but it seared his hand with each touch. Finally, he gritted his teeth, wrapped his fingers around the weapon tightly, and ripped it out. He threw it at one of the assassins, but the seared flesh of his hand stuck slightly to the weapon, making the throw a clumsy one. He focused his mind on the injury, trying to use his powers to heal it through force of will, but this further weakened him and caused him to shrink back to his natural size as the soldiers closed in on him. They raised their iron weapons, ready to butcher him like a slaughtered hog.
Kronos brought his hands together and conjured a black orb of necrotic energy - it would likely kill hundreds of his own men, but Kronos wasn't about to let himself be drawn and quartered by nameless humans. Just as he was about to release the spell, though, another much larger figure emerged from the smoke, seized the soldiers by the necks, and crushed them together with a muffled crunch of breaking bones.
Kronos staggered to his feet as the figure emerged fully from the smoke. He was powerfully muscled, built like a quintessential hero with long reddish-brown hair and a short beard. The man was unquestionably a titan, but not one Kronos remembered.
“Thank you, warrior,” Kronos winced from the pain in his leg, “To whom do I need to pay my gratitude.”
“I am Jupiter,” Zeus lied as he drew out Pandora's Box, “and I want to help you put an end to this madness.”
Kronos staggered to his feet as the figure emerged fully from the smoke. He was powerfully muscled, built like a quintessential hero with long reddish-brown hair and a short beard. The man was unquestionably a titan, but not one Kronos remembered.
“Thank you, warrior,” Kronos winced from the pain in his leg, “To whom do I need to pay my gratitude.”
“I am Jupiter,” Zeus lied as he drew out Pandora's Box, “and I want to help you put an end to this madness.”
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