As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the ground, Kronos, with evident resentment, took to the skies with his magus in tow. They flew towards the moon in a graceful, yet somber formation, their silhouettes diminishing against the darkening horizon.
They went to salvaged any of their belongings, artifacts, scrolls, and various other possessions – reminders of their long tenure overlooking Earth. Then, leaving behind the moon that had been their vantage point, they set their course for their distant home world.
From Earth, the magi watched this departure with a mix of relief and apprehension. They were under no illusions that they had seen the last of Kronos. However, in that fleeting moment, there was a shared sense of victory. A short-lived respite, but a victory nonetheless.