Cronus' system: Against the gods

Chapter 115 A shady Meeting

Rex didn't waste time sizing up the shades. What's there to analyze when you already know you're stronger?! The thought blazed through his mind as he lunged forward, his fist glowing with Aether, crackling like a miniature star ready to explode.

His punch connected or at least, it should have. Instead, it passed through the shade's body like plunging his arm into a pool of frigid, swirling ink.

The sensation was wrong, sickeningly cold and viscous, as though the shade had briefly swallowed him whole before spitting him back out.

Rex twisted mid-motion, flipping backward with acrobatic precision. He landed in a crouch, his breathing sharp, his skin tingling where the shade had touched him.

"Great! Intangibility. Of course," he muttered through clenched teeth, frustration rippling in his voice. No satisfying impact, no bone-crunching victory, just the smug, spectral invincibility of these things.

The shades advanced, their glowing eyes like twin embers boring into him. They didn't walk, they glided, their movements unnatural, as though they bent the laws of existence with every step.

Their sickly green aura pulsed in time with his heartbeat, faster and faster.

Think, Rex! he growled to himself, his fists tightening. How the hell do you hit something you can't touch?

"God's Eyes, show me their weakness," he demanded, his voice sharp as a blade.

The world shifted as his God's Eyes activated, turning the shades into shimmering outlines of data.

Weakness: Anchors of the Past.

"Anchors of the past?" Rex echoed, his tone disbelieving. He felt the burn of frustration rising in his chest. What does that even mean?!

His gaze flicked toward the shades again, their menacing forms gliding closer. The oppressive chill in the air deepened, frost blooming on the cracked ground beneath his feet.

"Cronus," Rex snapped, his voice edged with desperation, "you've gotta help me out here. What am I even looking for?!"

A heavy sigh echoed in his mind, ancient and exasperated. "If thou art told every answer, how shalt thou ever learn to conquer without aid?" Cronus' tone was sharp, disapproving, like a teacher scolding a lazy student.

"Not helping!" Rex barked, his temper flaring. His heart hammered in his chest as the shades loomed ever closer, their oppressive energy pressing against him like a suffocating tide.

Their glowing eyes seemed to mock him, daring him to figure it out before they closed the distance.

Anchors of the past... anchors... anchors... The phrase looped in his head as he danced backward, evading a shade that lunged at him with a hiss that scraped at his sanity.

Then it hit him, Anchors... something tying them here, something physical.

"Of course!" Rex shouted, his voice crackling with renewed energy. His God's Eyes pulsed, highlighting faint, spectral chains running from the shades to jagged stones embedded in the ground far behind them. The chains shimmered faintly, tethering the shades like ghostly leashes.

Chains of the Past: Anchors tying down the Souls of the dead

Rex grinned, adrenaline surging. "Looks like your leash just got exposed!"

Poseidon humphed as he removed his trident from the ground. His eyes turned blue in rage "Mortals who dare summon me! Fight your own battles you pests!!

Poseidon's booming voice reverberated across the battlefield, shaking the very earth beneath their feet.

"You call upon the gods, expecting mercy,

Yet know nothing of our wrath. You dare presume to wield the divine?"

The god raised his trident high, the energy within it crackling like a storm about to unleash.

The summoner, still kneeling, looked up with trembling hands, his face pale. "My lord, we are your servants! Without your aid, we....."

Before he could finish, Poseidon thrust his trident forward, the weapon glowing with a searing, oceanic light. A surge of water erupted from the ground, crashing into the man with a force so powerful it tore his body apart in an instant.

The remaining soldiers gasped in horror. They scrambled to flee, but Poseidon's rage was far from quenched.

"You cannot outrun the tide," he growled, his voice a thunderous roar. With a sweep of his hand, tidal waves formed in the sky and crashed down upon the battlefield. Each wave carried the weight of a thousand storms, obliterating everything in its path. Flesh and armor alike were torn asunder, the cries of the dying drowned out by the deafening rush of water.

One soldier fell to his knees, his voice choked with sobs. "We only wanted to protect our home!" he cried, moments before a swirling vortex dragged him under, leaving no trace of his existence.

Amidst the devastation, only the summoner remained conscious, barely clinging to life. He lay on the ground, gasping, his body broken, his blood mixing with the waters pooling around him.

Poseidon stood over him, his trident dripping with seawater and blood. He glared at the man, his expression cold and unforgiving.

"You speak of gods as protectors," Poseidon said, his voice quieter now but no less menacing. "But mortals forget: we are not your shepherds. We are your rulers. You brought this destruction upon yourself, fool."

The summoner's vision blurred as pain wracked his body. Memories of his wife and child flashed through his mind. He could see Lydia's tear-streaked face, her pleas for him to stay. He remembered the warmth of his son's laughter.

"What... have I done?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. Tears mixed with the blood and seawater on his face. His belief in the gods' benevolence, his faith, all of it shattered in his final moments.

Poseidon sneered. "Perhaps your gods will remember you, mortal. But I will not."

With a final, merciless strike of his trident, the waters rose again, swallowing the man whole. When the tides receded, there was no trace of the battlefield, the soldiers, or the summoner, only silence and a barren, sodden wasteland.

The memory shattered like glass, leaving Rex gasping for air, his chest heaving. His vision returned, red and teary. "Why did he have to die?" he whispered, his voice trembling with raw emotion.

Cronus' voice was soft, almost weary. "The gods are merciless, Rex. They do as they please, bound by no mortal law. And yet... was I any better?"

The shades howled, their anguish reverberating through Rex's soul. He clenched his fists, his heart aching with a pain that wasn't entirely his own. Their torment was palpable, an unbearable weight of betrayal, anger, and loss.

"I'm sorry," Rex muttered, his voice breaking. He raised his fists, his resolve hardening. "I'll end your suffering. I promise."

The shades lunged again, but this time, Rex was ready. His blazing Aether was no longer a weapon, it was a vow.