READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 12: RETURN TO THE MOTHER'S WOMB
Chapter 12: Return to the mother
Two hundred years had passed, and the world remained unchanged. No new gods were born, and no great upheavals reshaped the land. The earth, save for the slow spread of greenery, was as stagnant as it had been centuries ago. Yet, on this day, the foreseen disaster finally came to pass.
Or perhaps it was merely the product of Ouranos's imagination. Regardless, after another "entertainment" with his children, the God King stood on the beach, his pride radiating like the unyielding sun.
"You've made a decision at last," Ouranos said, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. He stood tall, exuding power as he threw Rhea, the youngest of his children, to the ground before him. The sky itself seemed to ripple with his confidence.
"You've suppressed your dissatisfaction for too long. Do you think I haven't noticed? Are you going to rise against me now?"
Hyperion stepped forward, his voice calm but strained. "We would never, Father. We swore—"
"Ouranos interrupted, laughing coldly. "Swore? Oaths are merely veils for cowardice." He swept his gaze over the gathered Titans, his piercing eyes mocking their silence. "You lack even the weapons to oppose me. Is that your excuse? Shall I conjure a sword for you so that you may try?"
The Titans exchanged uneasy glances. They had seen this before—punishment borne of the God King's whims, often harsh and degrading. They expected more of the same, but this time would be different.
This time, Ouranos intended to act with finality.
---
For millennia, the God King had pondered the growing defiance in his children's hearts. He had tolerated their flaws, their weaknesses. But no more. He turned his back to them, the sky above darkening as his will took form.
"You are rebellious, cowardly, and incomplete gods," he declared. His voice carried the weight of the heavens, a declaration of divine judgment. "As your father and your king, I will give you a second chance—a chance to become what you were meant to be."
Confusion rippled through the Titans. Hyperion dared to ask, "What do you mean, Father?"
Ouranos turned, a blade of pure sky forming in his hand, sharp and glimmering with cosmic energy. He made no effort to explain further. Instead, he acted.
The God King reached out, seizing Oceanus, his eldest son.
"Ah—!"
Oceanus's scream echoed as the blade descended. Ouranos tore through the earth itself, Gaia's anguished cries rising with the shattering ground. Her sacred body quaked as her son was forcibly returned to her womb, his divine essence stripped of form and hurled back into embryonic existence.
---
From the top of her sacred mountain, Gaia felt every wound. Rivers ran dry, mountains crumbled, and forests withered as her body endured the assault. She had once loved Ouranos, her king and consort, but now she saw him for what he truly was—a tyrant who would destroy all to preserve his rule.
"Ouranos," Gaia whispered, her voice trembling with pain and fury.
He ignored her. The God King continued his work, forcing each of the Titans back into her body. Hyperion, Coeus, and Crius followed, their divine powers splintering as they were unmade. With each act, Gaia's agony grew, but she did not cry out.
When Cronus, the last of her children, was returned to her, Gaia lay still on the sacred mountain. The earth was silent, save for the whispers of the wind and the low rumble of distant waves.
Ouranos, his task complete, looked upon the world with satisfaction. "The prophecy is delayed," he declared, his voice filled with triumph. "As long as they remain within you, my queen, they will never be born. Their power will be mine to control forever."
Gaia did not answer.
The God King approached her, placing a hand on her trembling form. "You've done well, Gaia," he said, his voice softening as it had in ages past. "I will remember this sacrifice."
Gaia turned her gaze to the heavens, her eyes cold and distant. She spoke at last, her voice devoid of emotion. "You have gone against my instincts, Ouranos. This will not be forgotten."
---
Far below the sacred mountain, in the place where the earth met the abyss, Soulis raised his head. The sky above was chaotic, trembling with the aftermath of Ouranos's actions.
"So it begins," Soulis murmured, stepping from his cave for the first time in centuries. The winds of destiny swirled around him, carrying whispers of rebellion and change.
The underworld stretched before him, a realm of eternal night and darkness where Gaia and the abyss converged. It was a place of emptiness, soon to become the seat of a new era.
"The God King's pride blinds him," Soulis said, his voice calm and deliberate. "But pride always paves the way to ruin."
He began his descent into the underworld, knowing it would be his home for the coming age. As the earth trembled and the heavens quaked, the gears of fate began to turn. Gaia's silent fury would not remain silent forever.
And when the time came, the heavens themselves would fall.
Soulis stepped into the underworld, the desolate realm that lay between the earth and the abyss. The air was thick with oppressive silence, broken only by the occasional groan of shifting earth and the distant echoes of Gaia's anguish. Shadows danced along jagged cliffs and winding paths, their movements alive with the whispers of ancient secrets.
He paused at the edge of a chasm, his piercing gaze sweeping over the unformed expanse. This place, bereft of light and life, was perfect—a canvas awaiting the brushstrokes of transformation. The underworld would be shaped by the choices of the gods, their hubris, and their inevitable downfall.
"Here, in the cradle of eternal night, the seeds of rebellion will sprout," Soulis murmured, his voice carrying a quiet certainty. "And the God King's reign will begin to crumble."
He reached out, his hand brushing against the intangible threads of Anima that drifted unseen in the air. This power, untouched and raw, would be his tool. As a soul unbound by flesh, his mastery over the intangible far surpassed even the gods'. He would bide his time, gather strength, and ensure that Gaia's pain did not go unanswered.
---
Meanwhile, on the sacred mountain, Gaia stirred. Her body bore the scars of Ouranos's cruelty, but her resolve remained unbroken. As she lay beneath the oppressive sky, her thoughts turned inward.
She could feel her children within her once more, their presence like faint embers of divine light. They were not gone, merely dormant, their essence imprisoned but not extinguished. This was not the end—it was a beginning.
"Ouranos thinks he has silenced you," Gaia whispered, her voice trembling with suppressed fury. "But he has only planted the seeds of his own destruction."
In the depths of her being, Gaia began to weave a plan. Her connection to the earth, vast and ancient, gave her insight into the flow of time. She saw glimpses of what was to come—a new era shaped by rebellion and sacrifice.
Her gaze hardened as she resolved to nurture the embers of her children's power. They would not remain dormant forever. One day, they would rise, and when they did, the heavens would tremble.
---
Back on the surface, Ouranos stood at the edge of the world, his arms crossed as he gazed upon the horizon. The sea stretched out before him, its waves glinting under the pale light of the heavens. For the first time in centuries, he felt at peace.
"Fate bends to my will," he said to himself, his tone filled with pride. "The prophecy is meaningless now. My children are where they belong—beneath me, powerless and silent."
He allowed himself a rare moment of indulgence, basking in the glory of his perceived victory. Yet, deep within, a faint unease lingered—a shadow of doubt that he could not entirely dispel.
Unbeknownst to the God King, the gears of rebellion were already turning.
---
Soulis descended further into the underworld, his path illuminated by the faint glow of his own Anima. The air grew colder, the shadows deeper, but he pressed on with unwavering purpose.
At last, he reached a vast cavern, its walls glittering with veins of raw, untapped energy. This was the heart of the underworld, a place where the forces of creation and destruction converged.
Kneeling at the center of the cavern, Soulis extended his hands, his Anima intertwining with the raw energy around him. The cavern pulsed with light as he began to shape the foundation of his domain.
"This will be a sanctuary for those cast aside," he said softly. "A haven for the forsaken and a forge for the future."
As the underworld began to take shape, Soulis felt a surge of determination. He was no mere observer; he was a catalyst, a force of change. The time for passivity was over.
"Ouranos, your pride will be your undoing," Soulis whispered, his voice echoing through the cavern. "And when the heavens fall, I will be there to witness your end."
The stage was set. The players were in motion. And the first act of rebellion was about to begin.