Chapter 2 ~ The Darkness​

Agony.

Half my mind was constantly occupied by pain. But the other half was occupied with maintaining my Absolute Immortality power. It was a necessity as it had yet to become automatic, and as such, I needed to focus on using it for it to activate. This situation had been my current state for an untold time.

Should I not focus on keeping the power active, I would find my fleshed stripped to the bone, and this is an experience so horrifying I did not wish a repeat.

I was forced to float on my back, or else I would sink into the currents of stomach acid. With this, I need only experience the pain through my backside as the acid continuously ate at my skin. Finally, in desperation, I switched from Absolute Immortality to Shakti, wherein I developed an immunity to oxygen starvation.

But gaining the ability to survive without breathing wasn't worth the pain I experienced from the brief time I was without Absolute Immortality. In the short time without the power active, the acid had eaten me down to my bones and was in the process of dissolving my organs when I finally reactivated the power. The experience was terrifying and the pain so searing that I couldn't even muster the strength to scream.

But Absolute Immortality did not make me immune to the acid. Instead, I could merely heal faster than the acid could harm me. So to escape the constant agony, I felt my mind retreating, my only conscious thought to continue the action that protected me. And for weeks, this Hell persisted until I found myself becoming aware of the fact that I was growing numb to the pain. And yet, a new ache took its place. Weeks without food and water had pushed on even the limits of what a godling could withstand. And like a newborn, I was all the more vulnerable. I knew then that I would need to develop complete immunity to starvation and thirst.

I did not relish this thought. And yet, I mustered the willpower to go through with it all the same.

Shakti could not protect me from the acid. If I wished to build immunity to the acid, I would need to focus the power on that purpose. But I had grown numb from the pain in my time drowning in the pool of acid. So it only hurt to drink the acid, which repeatedly happened as I sank below the surface when my flesh failed me.

It became a cycle as I would switch to Shakti to try and develop immunity to hunger and starvation, only to need to switch back to Absolute Immortality moments later to regenerate the damage caused by the acid. No matter how I struggled to coax Shakti into developing the immunities I desired, I felt what progress I made evaporated when I switched back to Absolute Immorality.

Hours later, I recalled my frustrating Late Bloomer Drawback. If I wasn't confident that whoever meddled with my Ascension hated me before, I knew they did now. But so potent was my rage that I abandoned my attempts to coax my power to grow in the direction I desired. Instead, I strangled it into submission and forced the power to OBEY.

Even such attempts were met with failure. At least at first. But by the third attempt, I felt something click finally as the by now familiar pangs of hunger receded into an omnipresent but thankfully, mild pain.

The effort involved in creating such a simple immunity left me suddenly drained. Did I even want to go on? Could I dredge up the willpower to prosper in this Hell? I think I could now understand why Hade's in classical lore was so bitter. I couldn't even begin to imagine what Zeus's siblings felt, knowing that their youngest brother had escaped their father.

Well, besides Hestia. Hestia probably was elated that Zeus had managed to escape her fate out of all my new siblings.

I couldn't keep track of time anymore. Not when I had to struggle so hard to develop the immunities I needed to survive this Hell. Years could pass me by, and I wouldn't notice.

During this time, my Shakti power accelerated my growth rate until I was a full-grown, albeit malnourished young man. In addition, my body's new surface area made floating easier upon the sea of stomach acid.

My physical age did not benefit anything besides giving me a larger surface area to float. So I still struggled every day to develop my powers.

It was even worse than I first believed. In the years I had been trapped, I'd learned to sense my stores of divine energy. It was enough for me to realize that something about this place was strangling any attempts I could make at using my divine power.

Just for that, I was going to cut off Kronos's dick. This whole mess began because of a prophecy. Kronos was so afraid that his children would one day overthrow that he was willing to murder each of his children. Or maybe Kronos was just scared of getting castrated just like he'd castrated his father, Ouranos? Whatever the case, it'd be a shame to disappoint him…

While I hadn't yet developed my Absolute Immortality to make it autonomous, with Shakti, I increased my physical durability to levels that made me immune to anything but a direct attack by a god.

Despite my struggles, I felt that Deus Ultima weren't supposed to make such progress with their powers at the rate I was going. I was reaching near mastery levels with Shakti, even with my Late Bloomer Drawback.

Although, it might have something to do with their differing circumstances. I couldn't imagine that any ordinary Deus Ultima felt compelled to truly develop their powers if they could live in luxury in their personal heaven being attended to by literal angels.

It was a matter of necessity. If I didn't learn quickly, I'd die. Nothing was quite as motivating as impending doom.

I didn't even have an Angel to aid me when in danger. So because of a cosmic asshole, I was forced to endure this Hell by my lonesome.

…I think I was starting to develop a complex. Not only was I practically frothing at the mouth at the thought of some faceless jackass, but even the thought of Zeus was enough to get me chewing at the bit.

If I wanted to develop Shakti in a specific direction, I needed to harness and manipulate my divine energy and direct it to take on the form I desired. Any headway I made was purely a product of self-discovery.

With Omnilock, I could arrest gravity's hold on me and fly, but it had little value beyond that. It had other esoteric uses, but I found it difficult to imagine ways to use the power, so it was left mostly untouched.

If I could get Planeswalking to a workable state, I could open a Quantum Tunnel and get the Hell out of here. But developing it to that point was looking as if it'd be an impossibility while trapped here. Moreover, even if I did manage to open a doorway, I'd need to make sure it was far enough away that daddy-dearest wouldn't know I'd escaped and throw me into the most bottomless pit of Tartarus.

By now, I was durable enough that Kronos's stomach acid was harmless to me. It was water to me, albeit foul water, and so I could ignore it as I silently drifted along on this sea of acid while pondering ways to escape this Hell.

Even though I was now essentially immune to the acid, I still had Absolute Immortality active. Although now it was more because I was so used to keeping it going permanently rather than because it was necessary. Rather than being a conscious choice, it was always running in the background. Maybe in a century, it wouldn't even be that.

So my Absolute Immortality was nearly autonomous. While I might have thought that awesome before this Hell, just the memory of everything I needed to endure to gain a partial mastery over the power made me want to scream.

For years I'd been drifting along this ocean of pain. My only respite was that I was mainly numbed to the pain. But now I felt something else. Somehow, I'd drifted far enough to bump into something.

A wall of flesh.

The contact caused me to tilt just right that I sunk back into the acid. Then, grimacing, I kicked my fit and popped back above the waves.

While I was dog peddling away from the wall, I made a startling realization. A realization that honestly brought tears to my eyes.

I could see my hands.

But if I could see my hands, there must be a source of light to see?

Where?

With desperation, I searched the horizon, determined to discover the source of the light. Then, a minute into my search, I caught the tiniest flicker of light in the distance. It was something I recognized.

Fire.

It was honest to God fire.

I found myself moving before even making the conscious decision to seek the fire source. My leisurely dog peddle had become a frantic rush, my muscles burning with the strain. But I ignored the pain.

There! I need to go there!

Move, damnit! I need to fucking move!

Because somewhere deep in this pit, someone shared this Hell with me. No, I could see them now! There were three.

And it was as I drew closer that I could hear them talking. I knew immediately the moment they noticed me as the faint whispers of their voices became terrified shrieks

…Okay, maybe I should have planned this. But I'd been alone for so long, and I didn't want to abandon my approach.

Besides, wasn't it better they knew I was coming? I can't imagine they'd have appreciated me dropping in on them without warning…

​

Many Decades Ago – Hestia​

Within Kronos's belly lived one unfortunate occupant. She was young for a goddess, with mousy brown hair and red eyes that shined with an internal fire. Melancholy clung to her like a clingy lover.

She'd been trapped for years, forced to mind her steps lest a careless motion cause her to spill back beneath the waves of acid. She dearly wished to avoid such an event. It was the second most painful experience of her young life.

But no, nothing could ever top the trauma of her descent. Her mother's wails still echoed in her thoughts to this day.

Each day she cried out for mercy, for salvation. Yet her pleas remained unanswered.

Thank Rhea that she was born with the capability to produce fire. With it, she could light the darkness of her prison. It was a small comfort.

When she was young, she luckily happened upon her father's stomach walls. In her desperation, she called out to her fire and lashed out at the borders of flesh. But, despite her violent outburst, all she'd accomplished was to give her father a stomach. His groans were just barely audible.

Unfortunately, she could not carve deeper than a meter or two, for Kronos would regenerate any damage faster than she could heap it into his flesh. Not even pouring all her divine power into her fire could manage the feat. Here, Kronos actively suppressed her ability, so she had much less energy at her disposal.

All her effort had carved small tracks of land out the walls. She carefully charred the underside, which helped reinforce the flesh against the acidic ocean. Now she had a small platform to rest, and hopefully, she wouldn't need to take a dip back beneath the waves anytime soon.

She spent years on that platform, her only companion the flames she'd summoned to keep her prison alight. Only faint memories of her mother kept her company. But they provided no solace.

Every night she would recall what memories she possessed. Hestia had only spent a few days with her mother, but it was more than enough to form a bond. She missed her mother with every fiber of her being and couldn't help reliving the memories every night since. But, unfortunately, they did little to calm the flow of tears.

Two decades later and she was a woman grown. At that time, she developed a new memory. She was ashamed to admit that it eased her pain. But in the future, it would bring her both joy and despair.

But why?

One day she heard a wail from afar. It started from above and continued to plummet as its owner fell further down into Kronos's gullet. When she heard the splash and realized what it meant, she heedlessly threw herself into the ocean.

It took all her willpower to ignore the searing pain. Every fiber of Hestia's being cried out for her to abandon her course and return to the safety of the platform. But somehow, she found the motivation to continue. Her only concern was something deep beneath the waves of acid.

After diving, she spent minutes searching for the owner of the voice. Finally, somehow, she managed to find her, down in the depths. She would later reflect on the event with shame, for she answered her sister's suffering with two emotions.

She despaired at knowing that others would share her fate.

But she also bloomed with joy because she was alone no more.

Did that make her a bad person?

​

A Few Decades Later​

Hestia was uniquely adept at identifying her father's moods. After ages spent trapped in Kronos's belly, she'd learned to recognize the signs. If he coughed, the sea would tremble, if he was calm, the ocean was serene, and if he was sick, his stomach acid churned into a raging froth.

Her little sister was named Demeter. It was what Rhea had called her in the little time they had together. Hestia cared diligently cared for her sister, determined to provide a childhood as safe and happy as she could manage.

Demeter was beautiful, even more so than Hestia. Not that Hestia had ever seen her reflection. Demeter was willowy, with long hair the color of golden wheat and chestnut-colored eyes.

But despite how Hestia tried to provide for her little sister, Demeter was as unhappy with their situation as she. Of course, this fact didn't surprise Hestia – their prison was a dreary place.

While not perfect, both sisters worked to comfort each other. At least they couldn't starve. As immortals, they could ignore hunger even if they would prefer to eat. Whenever they could, they would scavenge food from what their father ate.

After several decades Hestia heard the walls of their prison rumbling. She knew this meant that her father was angry. An infant's wail punctuated such anger. It grew louder as she listened.

She knew what this meant. Hestia stood poised on the platform, daring to hope she could spare her sibling the agony of the fall. But she wasn't quick enough. From a distance came the sound of a loud splash.

She dived immediately. Thankfully, she managed to retrieve her new sister before she could sink further. But on her return to the platform, she worried: would Kronos swallow all his children? How many would suffer her fate before her father was satisfied?

Demeter helped her to climb aboard the platform. She was pale and jittery, distraught at Hestia's actions.

With what little of her power she could access, Hestia manifested a piece of cloth. After weeks of diligent training, she'd learned to create fabric from her power.

Demeter focused on collecting herself as she watched Hestia clean their new sister. Then, when she settled her nerves, she too manifested some fabric. She'd learned such a helpful ability after many weeks of schooling.

Their new sister had a small patch of black hair and large eyes, chocolate-colored eyes. Their ministrations had helped soothe the infant, her cries dissolving as they worked. As they cleaned, Hestia realized that her youngest sister was adorable. And one day, she would grow to be beautiful.

Demeter made a horrifying realization, a thought that she shared with Hestia. "Again…He's swallowed another…. Does he intend to eat each of his children?" To Hestia, she directed a desperate plea, "How long must we suffer?"

Hestia did not have an answer. Instead, she prayed that their mother would save them from this Hell one day.

But until that day, Hestia would watch over her sisters. And should Kronos swallow any more of her siblings, she will look after them, too.

​

Two Decades Later​

"–nd I keep telling you, my hair is so much softer than–" A young woman spoke these words. She had lush black hair, chocolate eyes, and a devastating smile. Her name was Hera, the youngest daughter of Rhea. She was just as Hestia had predicted all those years ago. Beautiful beyond words, stunning beyond belief. Should a mortal gaze upon her, they would be held transfixed for hours.

"O, by Khaos – NO, your hair is not better than mine," Demeter insisted, her face twisted with annoyance. The conversation had eroded what little patience she had left, enough that she willingly interrupted whatever Hera had to say.

Hestia, as the oldest, could only watch the two bickering with building exasperation. She could feel tension building, and she wondered if she would experience her first headache while listening to her sisters arguing. Of course, that would be a literal miracle, as gods were incapable of suffering headaches and migraines.

Although considering what little they had for entertainment, it was no wonder they had taken to annoying each other to fill the time. Hestia and her sisters had already expended topics to discuss ages prior.

O, Mother, please let this torment end, Hestia prayed while rubbing soothing circles into her forehead. While she understood the need to entertain themselves, she didn't argue whose hair was better.

She heaved a sigh. While she loved her sisters, they had long exhausted her patience with their ongoing bickering…

Before she could broker peace between her sisters, she felt the walls of her prison tremble. Outside their prison, her father was shouting loud than he ever had before, but now someone else was screaming back at him.

Her heart seized at the sound. Hestia hadn't heard her mother's voice since her father had swallowed her, but she recognized her all the same. Her parents were arguing, and although she couldn't understand the words, she knew what topic they were discussing.

Hestia stumbled as the platform of flesh beneath her began to shift and expand. All around them, the walls of their prison began to grow. Kronos must have decided to turn back into his full-sized Titan form for reasons unknown to her.

Demeter and Hera had frozen at the sound of Kronos's voice but tumbled to the ground as their platform changed sizes.

Beyond the platform, the sea of acid that surrounded them had grown with their father. It extended in all directions, beyond what the light of Hestia's fire could illuminate.

She expected to hear the by now familiar wail of a baby as Kronos swallowed his newest child. But it was worryingly silent. Were her parents fighting about something else? But no, there, in the distance, she could hear a splash as something dropped beneath the waves.

While the lack of sound confused her, she proceeded to jump from the platform back into the ever-burning fluids. Her body screamed as she swam, but she paid it no heed as she sought her new sibling.

Finding the child was so much worse now that her father had grown into his Titan form. His belly had grown with him and now was the size of a large ocean. Hestia stretched her senses to the limit, searching for her sibling. But the sea felt strangely empty. Yet, how could that be? Even a newborn godling was so full of Life that she could feel their presence despite how their prison suppressed their power.

After a minute of desperate searching, a sudden scream erupted from a distance. It lingered, louder than even what Demeter or Hera could produce, at least as far as she could tell from beneath the waves.

She sought out the source, and just as she drew close, searing pain suffused the length of her body. It was so blinding that her very body cried out for relief, demanding she escape.

Her body trembled in fear. Her instincts cried out in terror. Somewhere in the depths, DEATH lurked, ready to strike her down. It was a foreign concept for a god. As immortals, they needn't fear death – it had never been a possibility. Yet now it loomed, leering mockingly at her.

She tried to ignore her instincts, tried so hard to fight the pain, but her body fought against her mind, and she found herself retreating unless she'd blackout from the fear and pain.

Before she knew it, she was weakly climbing from the acidic waters back to her island platform made of charred flesh and belly-flopping to the ground. Her sudden coughing fit that followed drew her sisters to her. As they knelt beside her, they beheld her with horror.

"S-sister," Hestia could hear the terror in Hera's voice. Hera exclaimed, "WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO YOU?!!!"

Hestia realized that her sisters were looking at her body. She discovered that large portions of her body were missing when she checked. Almost every inch of her skin was gone, eaten by the acids.

What little skin that she still possessed had drained of all color. Her skin was brittle and flaked away at the slightest touch. From what little she could see of her hair, it had lost its luster and lifelessly hung from her scalp.

Thankfully, Hestia was confident she would recover within the hour. But how much damage the acidic waters could deal with her body in such a short time was concerning.

She summoned a flame into the palm of her hand and returned her attention to the sea. Raising the flame high, she searched the horizon. She could see splotches of grayish-green spreading across the surface from far in the distance. Whatever it was, it was spreading at an alarming rate.

Her father's groans startled her. She could feel the walls of her prison moving. The motion caused the sea to churn, sending sprinkles of acid up into the air only to splash back down across the surface of the platform she stood where it angrily burned.

She scanned the horizon, attempting to locate her lost sibling. Her flames provided enough light to illuminate a small patch of dark gray in the distance. As she watched, the patch slowly retreated away from them, disappearing beyond what the cone of light she wielded could provide.

Kronos was coughing. Hestia wondered… Was her sibling the cause of Kronos's pain? Had the ocean become so much deadlier because of her sibling?

Hestia didn't know what to think. All she knew was that her sibling was out in the ocean, suffering. With each second she dallied, her sibling drifted further away.

She readied to dive into the ocean again. But both Demeter and Hera hooked their arms into the crook of her shoulders and held her back.

"Are you mad?!!!" Demeter yelled. "You barely made it out alive, and you want to jump right back?!!!"

Hestia struggled to throw her siblings off. Finally, she shouted, "How can I stand here and watch while one of our siblings is out there, suffering at this very moment?!!!"

Hera shouted back. "And how will you save our sibling if you're DEAD?!!! Not only are they drifting away, but you barely survived ONE MINUTE down there! And the seas are still getting worse!!!"

The reminder caused her body to quake with fear. Far below the waves, the specter of DEATH loomed. Its touch was spreading, infecting the entire ocean.

Hestia could feel her sisters trembling. They were shaking like a leaf in the wind; they could feel it too. No wonder they were terrified.

If Hestia went back out into the ocean… she wondered if she could make it out alive. She looked upon the waters with tears blinding her. Because she knew she couldn't afford to search for her sibling any longer…and that killed her.

​

5 Days Later​

Kronos had yet to return to his standard size. His pain continued, and he struggled to breathe.

The ocean had stopped sloshing in that time as Kronos had stopped moving. But, while the waves were serene, the gray taint spread.

Whoever her sibling was, Hestia knew one thing to be true. It was an impossible truth, yet it was the only thing that fit.

Kronos had grown ill, to the point that he'd stopped moving altogether. And yet his stomach acid continued to darken.

Somehow, her new sibling was killing Kronos. By eating his child, her father began to slowly weaken.