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While Melinoë turned away from her grandfather, rummaging through a cabinet, Chronos covered his mouth with his hand and quietly cursed under his breath. His smile vanished in an instant, and his gaze burned into one of the trees, as if he wanted to either set it ablaze or erase it from existence altogether. A little more, and the Titan of Time would simply explode from rage and utter disbelief at how such idiots could possibly descend from him.
In truth, he had realized long ago that his children were not particularly gifted with intelligence. It was already evident when they decided to overthrow him over trivial nonsense. Then they turned his kingdom into some absurd parody of itself. Chronos blamed all of that on the genes of his father, Uranus.
But while restoring his body, he certainly hadn’t expected his grandson to show up with the intention of erasing him from reality. At first, the Titan thought it was a joke. There was no way a grandson, fully aware of who Chronos was, would actually decide to kill him. Pure nonsense. A prank—or empty threats that Zagreus would never follow through on.
But when the boy swung his father’s spear at him, laced with some strange spell, Chronos understood.
This generation was lost forever.
He didn’t even know who the boy inherited his intellect from—but it was certainly not the Titan of Time. Ignoring the fact that he was time itself just to kill him? That was phenomenal stupidity.
Of course, unlike some, Chronos understood the absurdity of the situation—and what would happen after his death. What had the grandson suggested again? Becoming kind? Reconciling with the family? Wonderful. Chronos would pretend to accept the offer, become obedient and gentle—and then simply erase them all and forget them like a bad dream.
Who could have known it would become the stupidest mistake of his life.
“Damn idiots,”
he hissed through clenched teeth.
Melinoë stopped examining the cabinet and looked at her grandfather in surprise.
“Did you say something?”
Chronos quickly returned the smile to his lips and turned toward her.
“I was just remembering what I need to do today, my girl. Don’t mind it—it’s related to renovating my son’s house. Hardly something that would interest you.”
The young witch tilted her head, studied Chronos carefully, then shrugged and went back to exploring the artifact cabinet. The Titan turned away, letting the smile drop from his face.
He didn’t care that nearly everyone looked at him like trash, an enemy, or the ultimate evil. He had seen worse looks in his time. And frankly, that was still better than rotting down below. The real problem was the inhabitants of the house—and their intelligence.
It should have been obvious starting with Zagreus. Not understanding that killing Time would send everything into the abyss was the absolute peak of idiocy. And yet the boy had somehow acquired impressive knowledge of the world. After living in this house, Chronos understood exactly from whom.
Hades, at the behest of the foolish Moirai, decided to expand his wife’s garden inside the house. Why?! Do you even understand how that affects plant quality due to the lack of proper soil and nutrients—not to mention completely ruining the building’s layout?!
Zagreus decided to add another room “for safety.” Brilliant!!! Now all of Tartarus can barely move because of a massive spike-filled chamber!! Oh—and you added saws too? What a genius!!
Hypnos fell asleep at work again instead of doing his job? I am not your alarm clock, son of Night!!! I’m not obligated to stand next to you and shake you awake whenever a Shade approaches! Why does Hades still employ such a useless worker?!
Chronos nearly wept—because, unfortunately, he couldn’t even hit them. He was goooood now. He couldn’t shove their faces into their stupidity like kittens. Nooo, he had to gently yet firmly explain why certain things must never be done. Naturally, because he was “the evil villain,” no one listened—and he had to fix their disasters with his own power afterward.
Then his granddaughter Melinoë appeared.
Chronos hoped she would be more sensible. That at last, a spark of reason had emerged. After all, unlike the rest of the household, he had personally overseen her upbringing. He chose not to question the logic of handing a child to a grandfather who wanted—and still wants—to torture everyone. It worked in his favor; maybe something worthwhile would come of this family.
Unfortunately, the blood of her great-grandfather surfaced after all. Chronos realized this the moment she decided to ride Cerberus through Tartarus.
Now both Zagreus and Melinoë were trying to drive him insane with their stupidity. And thanks to her interaction with her grandfather—and her training under him—Melinoë actively used the power of time. Naturally, this led to even greater catastrophes. Though part of the blame lay with the Titan himself: knowing how foolish this generation was, he still taught her such dangerous magic.
And then the realities merged.
Now he carried the memories of another version of himself. Apparently, the Chronos of that reality had grown tired of the circus and decided to merge the timelines, dumping all the problems onto another self. Chronos couldn’t blame him. Had he been in that position, he would have done the same—only better. After all, not everyone gets memories from another reality.
The worst part of the merge was that the Titan of Time had also been disappointed in his granddaughter. She was the one who insisted on erasing him—fully aware that he was Time itself. Once again, the boundaries of stupidity were shattered, and now he had to accept that as well.
Ah—and the kind Olympians. How could Chronos forget them?
In the reality where Zagreus tried to “redeem” his grandfather, Chronos could manipulate the gods through his grandchildren. Here? He had to humiliate himself before—
“Trash.”
He couldn’t stop himself from hissing it aloud.
Melinoë, approaching the healing fountain, paused.
“Did something happen?”
she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Chronos forced the smile back.
“I was saying that after my actions, a lot of trash was left behind. There’s so much to clean up.”
The young witch thought for a moment and nodded.
“That’s true. You caused a lot of destruction. I imagine there’ll be plenty of excess materials and useless things left after the repairs.”
She turned away and leaned over the fountain.
Ha! He caused a lot of destruction? One of her uncles caused a drought just to show off to mortals! That was destruction. This? Necessary maintenance.
And of course, Chronos once again had to make sure the gods didn’t do something idiotic—though they were very eager to try.
Mortals dared to write a song about Poseidon and his deeds? No, my son, you cannot flood an entire city. Especially since it’s your city—and if you actually listen, the song praises you!
No, Athena, you cannot curse a man because he carved your statue slightly wrong. It’s a tiny fold—most people won’t even notice it!
Dionysus, put on something decent. Stop disgracing your divine lineage with that tasteless outfit. And stop hosting your drunken revels—be useful for once!
But no matter.
Chronos was patient. If he could wait for his resurrection, he could certainly wait for the moment to overthrow this circus. He would savor watching Olympus rot and collapse from within. Watching everyone in the House of Hades vanish without warning—leaving behind only those who annoyed him the most. Oh, how delightful their screams would be when he finally tortured them for centuries of humiliation.
“You’re acting strange today, Grandfather,”
Melinoë said as she approached him, apparently finished with her tasks.
“But I’m glad you look happy right now.”
She smiled, awkwardly tilting her head. Chronos narrowed his eyes. Indeed—while dreaming of a pleasant future, the smile had formed on its own.
“Oh, I was just remembering how we used to play hide-and-seek when you were little. Such memories warm the soul.”
The Titan replied, still smiling.
Melinoë turned away shyly.
“That’s… an unusual choice of memories,”
she muttered, then waved her hand and headed toward the passage to Oceanus.
“Well then. I’ll see you near the entrance to Father’s house!”
Chronos waved goodbye.
There was still a long time before he could begin executing his plan. For now, he had to continue the performance. Let them keep believing in Typhon’s return, or in some evil fragment of Chronos.
The Titan of Time would happily maintain those illusions.
Oh, how he longed to crush them all for this…