Crowned in the realm of death

As white stone, the false infant Cronus had swallowed, splashed into the acid pond, disturbing the silence of the deep.

Hestia, Hera, Demeter, and Poseidon turned their heads in shock, eyes wide as they witnessed the unnatural ripple spreading through the corrosive abyss.

But only one among them remained calm

Hades, the God of Secrets,

for he had known all along.

He had watched the deception unfold .

He had seen Rhea's pain, Gaea's gift, and the false victory of Cronus.

And now, with fate's gears turning, the time had come.

From the depths of the acid pond, where divine energy had been both forged and tortured for years, a deep, inhuman roar erupted a cry of rebirth, of dominion, of vengeance.

The surface split apart as Hades emerged, his form like that of a mythic beast risen from slumber beneath the abyss.

His wings spread wide, towering and immense, each feather sharpened like obsidian blades forged in the flames of war.

His body tall, athletic, no longer that of a child. His horns curved slightly, his eyes deep violet glowing in contrast to the void-black sclera. He was no longer simply a god.

Seeing this figure rise like a monster from a nightmare, Poseidon, still young but full of inherited strength, immediately stepped into a battle stance.

Divine water circled around him, swirling like a coiled serpent. His instincts screamed of danger of a creature born from the deepest darkness.

But before tension could spark into a tragic clash

Hestia stepped forward, arms outstretched, her presence like the calming flame of a hearth in a winter storm.

"Stop! Calm yourself, Poseidon!"

"This is no monster... this is your brother."

She turned to the others, her voice firm but warm.

 "This is Hades, our eldest… brother."

Poseidon's stance eased, confusion flickering in his sea-green eyes.

Demeter and Hera stared in awe, barely recognising this monster.

And Hades… his voice low, calm, and heavy with restrained power, spoke for the first time in years:

"I have returned."

As Hades stepped fully out of the burning acid pond, his obsidian-black wings still dripping and steaming, his gaze turned toward the presence that had readied to battle him just moments ago

His younger brother.

He paused.

His eyes, sharp and cold from years of hardship, softened just slightly at what he saw.

Poseidon, once just a divine spark in Cronus's belly, had grown into a proud warrior.

His dark blue hair fell in gentle waves across his face, catching the faint glow of divine light.

His sapphire eyes, calm yet fierce, stared back with the wildness of the seas and the pride of a god who had claimed his path.

His features were strikingly handsome, carrying both the nobility of the Titans and the boldness of untamed waters.

But Hades was not impressed by his beauty.

But, his power.

'He's already reached the strength of a High-Level God…' Hades thought, eyes narrowing.

'And yet… he's still weaker than me.'

There was no arrogance in the thought, just the quiet recognition of how far Hades had pushed his body, mind, and soul into the abyss.

Then Hades turned his gaze to his sisters.

For a moment, even he who had long buried emotions under cold resolve felt a twinge of awe.

They had all grown.

Hestia, his eternal flame, now radiated maturity and calm power. Her once soft features had become refined, her eyes glowing like sacred embers. Her presence gave warmth even amidst the acid a true Goddess of the Hearth, now standing proudly as a Mid-Level God.

Demeter, the blonde girl who once trembled and hid behind Hestia, now stood tall with golden hair flowing like ripe wheat fields, and green eyes that shimmered with life and command. Her aura pulsed with fertility and growth, her strength honed and cultivated like her domain.

Hera, regal and composed, carried herself with authority. Her violet eyes gleamed with judgment and resolve. Draped in divine fabrics, she already bore the air of a queen.

The Goddess of Marriage and Order had also risen to the level of a Mid-Level God, her power sharp, focused, and unwavering.

Each of them had suffered, but none of them had broken.

They had endured imprisonment…

And they had forged strength from p

ain.

The time of waiting was ending.

The seeds had sprouted.

And soon, revolt would begin.