Cronus' system: Against the gods

Jefferson lay half-conscious in the hospital bed, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors barely registering in his foggy mind. The room was sterile, but within the haze of his pain, memories surfaced, unbidden and vivid, dragging him back to a time when life was simple, yet unknowingly fragile.

Jefferson had been only ten years old, a boy full of curiosity and boundless energy. He lived in the small, idyllic village nestled in the shadow of Mount Celestia. The gods were revered as divine protectors, their names whispered with awe and prayers offered at dawn and dusk.

Jefferson's mother, Lyria, was his entire world. She was a woman of quiet strength and endless warmth, her laughter a balm to any sadness, her hands always busy weaving baskets or tending to their small garden. But that day, the day everything changed, her laughter was absent.

The soft sound of muffled sobs reached Jefferson as he returned home from gathering firewood. Confused, he dropped the bundle by the door and crept inside. There she was, seated on the edge of their small cot, her hands trembling as they clutched a worn locket to her chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her eyes, usually so bright, were clouded with despair.

"Mama?" Jefferson's small voice wavered as he approached her. "Why are you crying?"

Lyria looked up sharply, as though she hadn't realized he was there. She tried to wipe her tears away, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It's nothing, my sweet boy. Just… memories."

But Jefferson wasn't convinced. He climbed onto the cot beside her, wrapping his small arms around her waist. "Don't cry, Mama. Whatever it is, I'll fix it. I promise."

Her sobs broke free then, a torrent of grief she could no longer contain. She held him tightly, burying her face in his unruly hair. "Oh, my little light," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You don't understand… but you will. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" he asked, confused. His small hands clung to her as if his embrace could shield her from whatever pain she carried.

Lyria pulled back, cupping his face with trembling hands. "Jefferson, there's something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you long ago." Her gaze searched his innocent eyes, as though seeking the strength to continue. "Your father…"

Jefferson's brows furrowed. He had never known his father, never even thought to ask. His world had always been his mother. "My father?"

"He… he is not like us. He is…" She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Zeus."

The name fell like a thunderclap in the small room. Jefferson stared at her, uncomprehending. The name of the King of the Gods was spoken daily in the village, in prayers and hymns. It was a name of reverence, of power. And now, it was tied to him in a way he couldn't yet grasp.

Before he could process her words, Lyria's body convulsed. Her eyes widened in horror, and Jefferson cried out in alarm. "Mama!"

Her form began to shimmer, pieces of her disintegrating into golden motes of light. "No! No!" Jefferson screamed, trying to hold onto her, but his hands passed through her as though she were no longer solid.

A sudden, oppressive presence filled the room. Jefferson looked up to see a figure materializing out of a burst of lightning. Zeus. The god's expression was unreadable, his eyes distant as he looked at Lyria.

"Stop this!" Jefferson shouted, tears streaming down his face. "What are you doing to her?"

Zeus said nothing. He raised his hand, and with a flicker of energy, the remaining fragments of Lyria's body dissolved completely. Jefferson froze, his mind unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed.

"Why?!" he screamed, his voice raw with anguish. "Why did you do that?! She was my mother!"

Zeus turned to him, his face a mask of conflicting emotions, anger, regret, perhaps even sorrow. But he said nothing. The silence was deafening, a chasm that swallowed Jefferson whole.

And then, something inside the boy snapped.

The air around Jefferson shimmered with raw, untamed energy. His silver eyes burned like molten steel as his small frame trembled with a power he didn't understand but instinctively knew how to wield.

"You…" Jefferson growled, his voice low and guttural, unlike anything a child should be capable of. "You took her from me!"

Zeus' eyes narrowed, his divine aura crackling with electricity. "Child, you do not understand the consequences of meddling with gods. Stand down."

But Jefferson didn't stand down. Instead, he surged forward, his fists glowing with an ethereal light. It wasn't lightning; it wasn't fire. It was something ancient, something otherworldly—Aether. The raw power coursed through him as though it had always been there, waiting for this moment to awaken.

Zeus raised his hand, and a bolt of pure lightning exploded from his palm, aimed directly at the boy. Jefferson instinctively raised his arm, and to the god's astonishment, the lightning was absorbed into a shimmering barrier of Aether that materialized before Jefferson.

"Impossible," Zeus muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Jefferson didn't hesitate. He charged forward, the ground cracking beneath his small feet as he propelled himself at Zeus with a speed that left a sonic boom in his wake. His fist, encased in Aether, collided with Zeus' chest, sending the god flying through the wall of the cottage and into the open field beyond.

Zeus skidded to a halt, the ground scorched beneath him. He rose slowly, brushing dust from his golden armor. "How?! I did not expect this." Continue your saga on empire

Jefferson emerged from the wreckage of the cottage, his silver eyes glowing brighter, his small frame crackling with Aetheric energy. "You'll pay for what you did to her!" he roared, his voice echoing across the field.

Zeus raised his hand, summoning a massive lightning spear. The sky darkened, thunder rumbling ominously. "You are but a child. Do not let your emotions blind you to the futility of this fight."

But Jefferson didn't listen. He raised his own hand, and to his astonishment and Zeus'—a blade of pure Aether materialized in his grasp. It hummed with raw power, its edges glowing with a light that seemed to pierce through the darkness of the storm.

Zeus hurled the lightning spear with the force of a thousand storms. Jefferson swung his blade, and the Aetheric weapon cleaved through the lightning like it was nothing. The two forces collided in an explosion of energy that shook the ground and lit up the sky.

Jefferson charged again, his movements fluid and instinctive, as though the Aether guided him. He swung his blade at Zeus, who barely managed to block with a hastily conjured shield of lightning. The clash sent shockwaves rippling outward, flattening the surrounding trees.

Zeus retaliated with a series of lightning-fast strikes, each one with the power to raze a mountain. But Jefferson matched him blow for blow, his Aether blade cutting through Zeus' attacks like they were nothing.

Zeus launched into the air, summoning a massive storm cloud. Lightning bolts rained down upon Jefferson, but the boy stood his ground. He raised both hands, and a dome of Aetheric energy enveloped him, shielding him from the storm.

Then, with a roar, Jefferson unleashed the energy in a massive pulse. The shockwave tore through the storm cloud, dispersing it instantly. Zeus barely had time to react before Jefferson was upon him, his Aether blade slicing through the air with deadly precision.

The blade connected, striking Zeus across the chest. The god cried out, the force of the blow sending him crashing to the ground. Blood, golden and luminous spilled from the wound, staining the earth.

Zeus struggled to rise, his expression now a mixture of pain and disbelief. "You… you're more powerful than I anticipated," he admitted, his voice strained. "But this… this is not your fight, boy."

Jefferson stood over him, his blade raised high. His young face was twisted with rage and grief, tears streaming down his cheeks. "You killed her. You don't deserve to live."

But as he brought the blade down, Zeus vanished in a flash of lightning, leaving only the faint scent of ozone behind.

Jefferson stood there, his chest heaving, the Aether blade fading from his grasp. The rage drained from him, leaving only a hollow ache in its place. He fell to his knees, the weight of what had just happened crashing down on him.

The sky cleared, the storm dissipating as quickly as it had come. But the devastation remained. The boy knelt in the center of the ruined field, surrounded by the fragments of his home and the echoes of his mother's voice.

As the silence returned, Jefferson collapsed to his knees, his body trembling. The house was in ruins, the air heavy with the acrid smell of burned wood and ozone. He stared at the spot where his mother had been, where Zeus had stood. His small fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.

He didn't understand why Zeus had killed his mother, why the god had appeared only to destroy the one person Jefferson loved most. All he knew was the searing hatred burning in his chest, a hatred that would fuel him for the rest of his life.

Zeus was a tyrant, a monster who took what he wanted without consequence. And Jefferson vowed then and there that he would never bow to the gods. He would make them pay. All of them.

"Arrrgh!" Jefferson jolted upright, clutching his chest as a searing pain ripped through him. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding like a war drum, each beat echoing in his ears like thunder. He blinked against the harsh fluorescent light, his vision swimming as he took in the sterile hospital room.

Through the fog of his disorientation, a shadow loomed, a towering figure, muscular and fierce, with a massive club slung over his shoulder. Hercules. His mentor. His anchor.

"Master…" Jefferson's voice cracked, weak and trembling, but it carried a weight, a plea.

"Jeff!" Hercules dropped the club with a dull thud that reverberated through the room and closed the distance in an instant. His large, calloused hand pressed against Jefferson's sweat-drenched forehead, his eyes blazing with a storm of emotions—relief, anger, fear, and something else unspoken.

"Do you have any idea how much you made me worry?!" Hercules growled, his voice rough, shaking with restrained fury.

Jefferson winced but managed a weak smile. "A student… ought not trouble his master so much…"

" right!" Hercules barked, but his voice faltered at the end, softening into a rumble.

Jefferson exhaled shakily, leaning back against the pillow. The pain in his chest still lingered, an invisible chain pulling him back to the dream...the nightmare that had gripped him moments before. His past had come rushing back, vivid and unrelenting, clawing at him like the desperate hands of a man drowning.

The dream… No, the memory. It was a ghost he had buried deep, but it had risen to torment him once more. His mother's tear-streaked face, the golden motes of her disintegrating body, Zeus standing in cold, unfeeling judgment. That single moment had decided everything, his life, his purpose, his hatred. Kill them all. All of the gods, every last one of them, would fall by his hands.

His fists clenched under the blanket, trembling with rage. "That past…" he whispered, his voice low and venomous, "doesn't matter anymore. It's already done its job."

Hercules' sharp gaze softened as he sat at the edge of the bed, his bulk dwarfing the fragile frame of his student. "Jefferson…" he began, his tone hesitant but carrying a heavy weight.

Jefferson cut him off, his silver eyes glinting with a fire that had never died, only smoldered. "That past doesn't define me anymore, Master. It fueled me. It gave me the only truth I needed: the gods are nothing but tyrants." His voice cracked, rising with every word. "They take. They destroy. And they call it justice!"

Hercules watched him in silence, his hand tightening into a fist on his knee. He knew Jefferson's pain, he had lived through the crushing weight of loneliness, the sting of betrayal by those who should have been protectors. That shared anguish had bound them, master and student, in an unspoken pact of survival.

"You're not cursed," Hercules finally said, his voice deep and steady. "The villagers didn't reject you because you were cursed, Jefferson. They rejected you because they feared your power. The fire in you scared them."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Jefferson laughed bitterly, the sound raw and unhinged. "Power? What power? They feared a boy who couldn't even save his own mother. A boy who couldn't stop Zeus from destroying everything he loved."

Hercules' hand shot out, gripping Jefferson's shoulder with a force that made the younger man flinch. "Listen to me, boy!" Hercules roared, his voice reverberating through the room like a crack of thunder. "You're not that helpless child anymore. You've been through the fires of hell, and you've come out stronger. But don't let that hate burn you alive!"

Jefferson's glare met his master's, the defiance in his eyes sparking like flint against steel. "Hate is all I have, Master. It's what keeps me alive. What keeps me fighting."

"And it'll consume you if you're not careful," Hercules shot back, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Do you think your mother would want this? For you to drown in vengeance until there's nothing left of the boy she loved?"

Jefferson froze, his breath hitching. The image of his mother, her tearful smile, her whispered apologies, flickered in his mind. He looked away, his jaw tightening.

"Maybe not," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "But it's too late for that. She's gone. And the gods will pay."

Hercules leaned back, his face shadowed in the dim light. His voice softened, but the edge of warning remained. "Then you'd better be damn sure you're strong enough to see it through. Because Zeus? He won't just strike you down. He'll obliterate you. And I can't lose another student to him."

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Jefferson stared at the ceiling, his mind churning with rage, grief, and a glimmer of something he couldn't name.

"I won't fall," he said at last, his voice firm, unyielding. "Not to him. Not to any of them. They'll see what it means to face a mortal who refuses to bow."