At the beginning of time, the gods ruled the earth. Each group had its own dominion, and for centuries, humanity flourished under their watchful eyes. Cities rose tall, the arts thrived, and knowledge spread across the lands. The people honored their divine protectors with offerings and temples, but as time passed, the gods’ gifts were no longer enough.
Where once there had been gratitude, now there was greed. The powerful hoarded the fields with abundant harvests. The poor starved in the shadows of palaces. Leaders turned their swords on their neighbors, waging wars over land and gold. Temples, once sacred, became corrupt. Priests demanded bribes for blessings. Sacrifices were made in the name of vanity.
The gods’ sorrow grew as they watched humanity descend further. They stood at the edge of the heavens, watching in silent disbelief.
“Is this what we’ve nurtured?” whispered Athena.
“They destroy everything,” Zeus growled, thunder rumbling faintly in the distance.
“Our gifts, our blessings—wasted. They deserve nothing more from us.” With his golden eyes on the earth below, Ra said, “If they will not turn from the darkness, we must make them.”
In their anger, the gods gathered in council and agreed that humanity’s sins needed a great purge—a cleansing.
Plagues rained down, fires consumed cities, and only the strongest survived. But not all gods agreed with this course. A war broke out among those who sought to protect humanity against those who wished to see it purged. The war tore the heavens apart, and when it finally ended, the gods’ society was in ruins.
Time passed, and once again, humanity rebuilt. And once again, they became greedy, corrupted by their own desires. Seeing history repeat itself, the gods sent rain to flood the earth. They wiped out entire civilizations, drowning mankind’s sins. But this purge went too far, nearly erasing humanity’s very existence. The gods fought again. Some wanted to save humanity. Others sought to destroy them.
Despite the gods’ efforts, humans returned to their old ways. Each time, the peace grew shorter. It was as if something was driving them to corruption faster than before. The gods couldn’t understand why it was happening or what was causing it. They gathered again in the divine court, hoping for answers but finding only discord. The gods sat in a circle, their faces hard and weary. Anger, accusations, and bitterness rang out among them.
Zeus’ fist slammed on the marble table. “They have become worse than ever! Another purge is the only answer.”
Ra’s jaw hardened. “A purge, yes, but it must be swift. We can no longer allow them to fester.”
“How many times? How many more until we destroy them entirely—and with them, perhaps, ourselves?” Ishtar spoke calmly but with sadness in her tone.
“They deserve destruction,” Aldragoth muttered. He stood tall, his black cloak shifting like a living shadow. “We gave them every chance. But they poison everything they touch.” He paused, eyes narrowing as bitterness crept into his words. “I watched them burn the last of my temples to the ground. The priests who served me… loyal, devoted… slaughtered like animals. There’s nothing left to save. Enough of this mercy.”
But before the gods could descend into further chaos, Chronos raised his hand. His voice, deep and measured, cut through. “There is another way.”
The gods turned to him, some with interest, others with doubt.
Chronos rose. “A full purge would be a mistake. We’ve seen the results. It leads to chaos among the gods, as much as it does among humanity. But what if we limit it? We give them seven days.”
“Seven days?” scoffed Odin, leaning back in his chair, his one good eye gleaming with skepticism. “And then what? They miraculously change?”
Chronos shook his head. “No. Seven days for each soul to prove itself—for rebirth.”
A murmur rippled through the court. The gods exchanged glances, weighing the proposition.
Athena leaned forward and asked, cautious but curious. “And what happens if they fail?”
“Those who fail will vanish, turned to dust as if they had never been. But for those who succeed, there will be rebirth—a chance to rise above their sins, to break the cycle. The trials will be of their own making. Dungeons. Shaped by the deepest fears and darkness that dwell within them. Only by confronting that darkness can they earn the right to live again and be reborn.”
“I don’t like it,” Aldragoth spat. “Seven days? That’s controlling the rot, giving mercy, Chronos. They deserve endless decay—no reprieve, no hope. Let them drown in their sins. You speak of dust and rebirth, but I was born from their ruin. Mercy is weakness.”
“Perhaps that’s what we need. No more endless purges, no more drawn-out battles among us.” Hades interjected, nodding slowly.
“Seven days,” Chronos repeated. “I will oversee it.”
Ra agreed, though hesitantly. “Seven days, and not a moment more.”
The abyss within Aldragoth’s gaze flared with the sting of betrayal. “This is a mistake,” he hissed, though he did not challenge Chronos further. His resentment ran deeper than the others could know. For once, Aldragoth had loved Chronos. He had believed that time and decay were two forces meant to work in harmony, a natural cycle where all things would fall into rot as time marched forward. But now, Chronos had chosen mercy, severing what Aldragoth believed had been an eternal bond.
When the next purge arrived, humanity was once again steeped in greed and sin. Though Chronos’ purge was successful, Aldragoth harbored hatred for the god of time. He and his followers turned against Chronos. They killed the gods who supported him. They blamed the god of time for allowing humans to persist. The remaining gods gathered for another council, but this time, it wasn’t to discuss. It was war.
Chronos stood at the center of the chaos. “Aldragoth,” he roared. “You’ve gone too far.”
“Too far?” Aldragoth stepped from the shadows. “No, Chronos. This is only the beginning. We once stood side by side, you and I. Time and decay, one feeding the other. Everything you touched crumbled because of me. And I loved you for it.”
“This is madness. You’re killing your brothers and sisters—for what? Your own hatred?”
“You gave the humans a choice they didn’t deserve when all you needed to do was let them wither. You—of all the gods—were meant to stand with me, Chronos! We were supposed to rule together. To be together. But you chose mercy over truth. Now, you pay the price for your weakness, just as those who followed you.”
Aldragoth raised his hand, and tendrils of shadow writhed forth, spreading decay like a sickness. Without hesitation, Chronos swung the Blade of Time in a wide arc. As the sword met Aldragoth’s black tendrils, the fabric of reality shuddered. The ground cracked beneath them. Ripples of time split the earth like glass under too much pressure.
Aldragoth snarled, his cloak fluttering as he summoned another wave of decay. The tendrils snaked forward, sinking into the earth. Wherever they touched, life withered. Trees, once towering and green, crumbled into dust. The sky, once clear, darkened with rot.
Chronos gritted his teeth. Every muscle strained under Aldragoth’s power. His hands trembled as they clutched the Blade. Time flickered around him—one moment, his form was old and weathered. The next, young and strong.
The god of decay laughed, a deep, hollow sound that rattled through Chronos’ bones. “Feel it,” Aldragoth taunted. “Time can’t save you now.”
Chronos staggered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His legs buckled as Aldragoth advanced, the rot seeping into his skin. Every second slowed, but still, Chronos stood.
“You can’t stop what’s already begun,” Aldragoth hissed. “Seven days? Seven eternities wouldn’t be enough.”
Chronos’ face softened, even as the rot spread through him. “You overreach, Aldragoth… but I was wrong too. We were once a cycle, bound together, a harmony, shaping the world. I thought… I could change that balance and save humanity, but in doing so, I severed what we shared.” He coughed, blood spilling from his lips. “You clung to the truth we once knew, and I… I lost sight of it. But I see now that you’ve twisted that truth.”
Aldragoth’s eyes darkened with fury. “You speak as if you know me, Chronos, but you never truly did.”
“I have loved you too. But… time is older than you—older than all of us. It bends to no one. I believed they could change, that with time, there was hope.”
“All I see is nothing more than another false promise. But you’ve shown me something, Chronos… You’ve given them just enough hope to make them fight. And now I will twist it, use it against them. The seven days will become their torment. They will believe they can pass the trial, only to be trapped in an endless loop.”
“No! I will not let you.” With a surge of power, Chronos pushed Aldragoth back. It seemed as though the god of decay faltered, but then a dark smile spread across his face.
“You’ve always underestimated me, Chronos.”
In an instant, Aldragoth plunged his hand into the air. With a violent thrust, he tore through the essence of time, the decay spreading further into Chronos’ body. The god of time gasped as the darkness began to eat away at him.
He roared, trying to fight back, but it was too late. Aldragoth, fueled by millennia of hatred, drove his hand deep into Chronos’ chest. Chronos crumpled, his knees striking the cold ground. The rot spread like wildfire, consuming Chronos’ skin as black veins snaked across him, twisting and writhing like parasites. The flesh turned brittle, and Chronos’s breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, his lungs burning as if filled with dust.
Above, the sky turned a sickly shade of green. The clouds swirled unnaturally, suffocating under the weight of time collapsing. The stars flickered, dimming one by one. The wind stilled. It was as if the world paused to witness the fall of the god of time.
Chronos tried to rise, but his body betrayed him. His vision blurred, colors fading, his sense of self slipping away with each second.
Even as decay consumed him, Chronos raised the Blade one last time. He drove it into the earth with the final flicker of his strength. Time protested, the ground splitting open as temporal energy surged outward. The battlefield trembled violently, and in an instant, the world shifted.
The wasteland vanished. A windswept plateau now lay at the edge of eternity. Mist curled at their feet, clinging to the edge of reality. In the distance, the remnants of forgotten eons crumbled to dust. Time there had no meaning—only fragments of past and future flickered in and out of existence.
Aldragoth blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. But his cruel smile returned. “A clever trick, Chronos,” he said. "But do you think this place matters? You cannot escape decay, Chronos. Not here. Not anywhere. Even time must rot.”
Chronos forced his gaze upward, staring into the abyss of Aldragoth’s eyes. He whispered a single word, too faint for Aldragoth to hear. A barely visible shimmer drifted from Chronos’ lips, dissolving into the wind.
Aldragoth leaned in, gloating over the weakened god. “You cling to hope like the humans? Even as you rot before me? Time crumbles just like everything else.”
But Chronos, though his breath stammered, did not look away. “Time was never mine to command, Aldragoth. It moves beyond us all. This moment, your victory… I have seen its end.”
“Delusions won’t save you.”
“You forget what time truly is, Aldragoth. I saw what your failure would be long ago. You fool.” Chronos’ final breath escaped like a fading breeze. The glow around him vanished into the aether, taking his essence with it.
“Empty… the last breath of a fading god,” Aldragoth said, dismissing Chronos's words as nothing more than echoes. He reached down, wrenching the Time Blade. With it in hand, he turned his back on Chronos’ lifeless body and disappeared into the shadows.
Chronos and his last trick. Art by me @its.forevermonday on Instagram
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