Kronos’s gibberish filled voice struck my synapses with the force and cruelty of a leather whip. I felt its touch, but I didn’t comprehend it. There was only the straining of my essence bending under the weight of something far, far greater than I ever was or could be.

“Why can’t I understand him?” I asked 13. The beginning of a migraine was rising, the pressure like an oncoming storm.

“He has the Skyfather’s bronze thunderbolt piercing his brain.” 13 said dryly. “You try speaking coherently with one of those poking out of your skull.”

“What’s the point of coming to see him if I can’t listen to his words?” I said with frustration.

“Don’t listen. Feel.” 13 said cryptically. “It will hurt more if you resist. Give in and be enlightened.”

I closed my eyes and let the Titan’s voice take me, falling into a sea of scraps and snippets of his psyche. There were no true words, but there was rhythm and emotion to what he was slipping into my mind. A pattern to it, ups and downs, pauses, the heat of anger, the stabbing of hunger. That fury became my fury and that aching desire to devour became my desire. I struggled to hold onto my own name, to keep my identity from being washed away.

Adrias. Adrias. My name is Adrias.

Adr- Adrias… My name is Adr-

The more I let myself drift away, the more images I saw with my closed eyes and the more shared memories trickled into my thoughts. I just had to hope I would still be me when I woke from this waking dream.

“A coup.” I said to myself, not hearing if 13 responded. The Titan’s voice repeated the two words like an echo, distorting it every time it was repeated.

Kronos could not truly command with Zeus’s weapon destroying his ability to clearly think and to use the voice of a divinity like how I had borrowed Heracles’s, but his presence still held influence like Achilles did. Kronos had been banished here and his fallen glory was such that everything in the Pit of Tartaros was his, no matter how much he hated it and them. That gravitas let him exert the slightest of pressure on the Laruas despite them supposedly being controlled by Hades and the Lord of Sutures.

They were his hands, even when they didn’t know it, even when they resided else under the yoke of Hades himself. Hands that fidgeted and fumbled, yes, but gods and titans were immortal and thus time meant nothing to Kronos. One more second in the Pit was as sour an experience as a thousand years. Those flawed hands could err so long as they slowly moved closer to what he wanted.

“And what have your hands been doing?” I said, my eyes still shut.

The memories poured in. Brown robed servants bringing Nectar and Ambrosia down to him in secret, nourishing him, strengthening him. Those same servants going elsewhere, Asphodel and other places in the Underworld. And lastly- A flash of Callidas Aezion’s face in my mind’s eye -the Titan King’s hidden servants taking those two holy substances above into the lands of the living.

Those two treasures and something else. Vials. Hidden from Callidas, hidden from Hades who no doubt knew of the trades but was fooled by thinking that the most valuable substances he knew were all that Augustas was receiving.

“What are the vials?’ I said. No answer came this time.

“What are they?” I asked again. They looked different from the injections used to make Laruas, and with Nectar and Infernal Beast blood my grandfather could make it himself. It was something else but in this state I struggled to focus at all.

His voice was as loud and incomprehensible in my mind as ever, but there was no clarity to be made. Perhaps I could have pushed for it, but what would it cost to dive deeper?

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“Fine. What do you get in return if Callidas keeps my grandfather’s money?” I asked.

An image of my grandfather’s face in his full Imperator’s glory and demigod’s golden irises.

Then a scalpel sheering flesh from the Regent’s arm.

Finally, a Larua dropping a chunk of meat into Kronos’s waiting mouth.

Understanding brought revulsion. Cannibalism. My grandfather was trading cutoff flesh for the vials, meat that Kronos consumed. The body of the greatest living being in the mortal realm was no doubt far more filling than Ambrosia. If the food and the drink of the gods was worth little to Augustas as Callidas had said, then it certainly was the merest of morsels for the Titan.

“If I destroy Elysium and free your servants, all that stops.” I reasoned, as stupid as it was to actively convince him to go against my plan. “Your hunger will never be sated like it is now.”

If I didn’t understand his motivations, I was less than a pawn.

I heard 13’s voice in my ear almost like the Titan’s noise was pulling away to let the Larua speak.

“What’s the only thing more powerful than hunger?” 13 whispered like he was asking me to confess my sins to him.

I was tempted to say love because it was something a normal person would answer with, but that wasn’t true for me and it certainly wasn’t for Kronos.

“Hatred.” I said. A single betrayal could tear love to shreds, but hate could last the ages better than any metal.

Kronos’s laugh was much clearer than his words. Yes, hatred was the answer he wanted. Another mirage appeared before me, blocking out my normal vision even when I opened my eyes. The audacity of it took my breath away.

In it, my grandfather and I stood in a white throne room. I would have guessed the palace was his if it was not for the fact there was a man wearing a crown at the Regent’s feet whose face matched statues on sides. That there were twelve thrones rather than one was another sign. I stared at myself, fascinated. I had reached Gold, and yet I didn’t look like how I expected. My dreams of Gold had always been glorious and triumphant. This version of me didn’t have a berserker’s grin or a soldier’s composed face or a prince’s pride. He, I, looked…

Tired. Tired and worn, not from physical exertion, but as if the Rank he gained hadn’t made him happier as I hoped.

Don’t you feel accomplished? Don’t you feel satisfied? You have everything! I wanted to say to my older duplicate, this melancholic twin.

Lightning crackled around the black-haired king’s body, light gathering in his palm, his teeth gritting like a raging beast’s. He was going to strike back! He was going to-

And then my future self handed Augustas a spear of ancient oak. The Regent of all the Dominium brought it down on the dethroned king, piercing through the left eye and out the back of the head just as the king had done to his father, Kronos.

“You’re helping me and the Laruas escape because you think my grandfather is going to kill the Skyfather. You want me to escape because you think I’m going to help him kill the king of the gods.” I realized.

I touched my hand to my nose and it came back with blood.

“Kronos. I am-“ I said as I tipped backwards. 13 caught me and started pulling me away, my feet scraping on the floor.

“Best to go now. A little sunlight makes a plant grow but too much bakes it to death.” 13 said sympathetically. “You’ve felt his attention for longer than I would have advised, but orders are orders.”

“Where are we going?” I said hazily.

“Back to Elysium. With Kronos’s support and guiding hand on you, my Lord of Sutures, and your role you’ll be able to order Laruas against Hades’s will.” The head Larua said.

He seemed happier, less combative now that I had met his true master.

“Stop. I need to stand.” I said finding the words.

“You should rest for now.” He replied.

“No.” I said, using his shoulder as support to stand. “I need to give orders to your people and I need to look strong while doing so.”

“And your orders are?” 13 said.

“Ships. We need to build lots of ships without the knowledge of the Blessed.” I said.

“What for? You anticipate a naval battle?” He said.

“Achilles and his army are going to be here soon.” I said.

“And you want to bring them to battle on the islands? My Lord of Sutures, we Laruas are much stronger, more than enough to do the job.” 13 said.

“It’s for everyone already here. My plan isn’t a siege anymore, it’s a heist and some demolition. We ransack Elysium for its Nectar and Ambrosia, destroy everything in reach and then flee to Achilles rather than have him come to us.” I explained.

“Very good, sir.” 13 said deferentially.

My legs wobbled and I crashed to the ground on my back. For a moment, I thought I saw my Golden self looking down at me before I blinked and saw it was 13. When I closed my eyes I still saw the other me though.

“What are you looking at?” I muttered. I didn’t like the judgment in my double’s face.

“Sir?” The Larua said.

“It’s nothing. Just tripped.” I said, taking his hand to stand up.