The ocean god Oceanus — the eldest son of the Heavenly Father and Mother Earth — was once the most powerful deity among the Twelve Titans, thanks to his countless ocean descendants.
He was also the elder brother deeply respected by the other gods.
But precisely because he was the strongest, Uranus had made him the first target.
Under the King of the Gods’s “special attention,” his power had declined, leaving him with only mid-level divine power — now ranked in the middle among the Twelve Titans.
He never imagined that the one who would ultimately overthrow the King of the Gods’s brutal rule would be himself.
Did he…
even have that ability?
Oceanus fell into deep self-doubt.
He even shuddered just thinking about raising a blade against Uranus — he couldn’t muster the slightest bit of courage.
It wasn’t that he was too timid — it was that Uranus was simply too powerful.
And those years of torment had left deep psychological scars.
Not only was Oceanus lost in self-doubt, but the other gods also looked at each other, each seeing hesitation in their eyes.
Prometheus had already expected this reaction.
Seeing this, he smiled slightly and explained seriously: “This ‘eldest son’ is not their eldest son.”
Seeing the gods looking confused, he didn’t discuss the matter of the firstborn further, but said: “This rebellion won’t succeed with just the respected Ocean God alone.”
He looked at the gods and spoke with utmost seriousness: “It requires all of you to work together.”
“Work together?
To rebel against the King of the Gods?” The celestial god Crius gave a self-mocking smile.
“With us gods, I’m afraid we still wouldn’t give His Majesty enough time to even stretch his muscles.”
These words were extremely negative — yet the Twelve Titans all nodded, their eyes full of helplessness.
If they could resist, they would have done so long ago.
But after all these years of a life worse than death, hadn’t the gods still obediently let Uranus torment and toy with them as he pleased?
The reason was simple: the King of the Gods, the Heavenly Father, was simply too powerful!
So powerful that they couldn’t resist — even just a glance from him made them feel guilty and afraid.
Especially after years of torment, their fear of Uranus was almost carved into their bones.
Even someone as impatient as Iapetus or as proud as Hyperion — in front of Uranus, weren’t they all as obedient as sheep?
Instead of asking them to rebel against Uranus, it would be better to pray that Gaia would work hard and give birth to a new god capable of resisting him.
Thinking of this, the wife of the foresight god Coeus — also the goddess of light Phoebe, representing wisdom — couldn’t help but speak:
“Maybe the one who resists the King of the Gods will be the child after the Mother Goddess?
I can sense the power of this law’s rhythm — the child the Mother Goddess is carrying far surpasses us.”
“The Mother Goddess’s resistance may fail, but her children might fulfill her expectations.”
As soon as these words were spoken, all the gods nodded, feeling that the beautiful Phoebe made a lot of sense.
They didn’t feel capable of fighting Uranus at all — they didn’t even have the courage to fight — and could only pin their hopes on others, praying to be saved from their misery.
Seeing this, Themis frowned.
She was about to scold them, but then saw Prometheus shake his head at her.
So Themis could only suppress her inner dissatisfaction, saying nothing, watching the gods speak one after another, growing more excited and expectant.
Just like the child Gaia conceived this time — surely it would be incredibly powerful, invincible wherever it went, even able to resist the King of the Gods.
And they only needed to wait to be saved.
The more Themis listened, the more disappointed she became.
She felt that her self-deceiving siblings were utterly ridiculous — and even more disheartened that no one was willing to protect the world.
But her eyes were covered by a white cloth, so the other gods didn’t notice her unusual behavior.
Equally silent and full of amusement was Cronus, who had gradually been pushed aside by the gods.
Cronus had watched coldly from the sidelines, finding these Titans utterly ridiculous — still delusional even after all this.
But when he turned his head, he saw Prometheus looking at him thoughtfully.
Seeing that he had noticed, Prometheus even gave him a smile.
Cronus immediately turned cold and awkwardly averted his gaze.
When the gods parted, Themis finally found an opportunity to ask Prometheus: “Why did you stop me from speaking?”
“Honorable Goddess of Order, what were you just trying to say?” Prometheus smiled helplessly.
“Were you going to tell them that relying on others is worse than relying on yourself?”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Themis retorted.
The justice-filled goddess said, “Now that the world’s order has collapsed, as the first generation of gods, we should naturally do our best.”
“Relying on others to do everything is truly wrong.”
“So, do you think they would listen to you?” Prometheus interrupted her directly.
Themis was taken aback by his words.
Prometheus looked at the goddess before him — who seemed to have gone too far — his expression growing increasingly helpless: “Your Highness Themis, you can never wake someone who is pretending to be asleep.”
“If the knife doesn’t cut you, you won’t know the pain; if the fire doesn’t burn you, you won’t think to run.
So your words wouldn’t just fail to achieve your goal — they would actually backfire.”
Themis had never thought about these things before.
Now, after thinking carefully, she frowned deeply: “Then what should we do?”
“Wait.”
Prometheus spoke, his gaze turning toward the world in the distance, where heaven and earth merged — a world of chaos.
“Wait?
Wait for what?”
“For the fire to reach them,” Prometheus said.
“When they themselves want to resist, only then will their plans be heard and regarded as wise advice.”
“Before that, no matter how much you say, it’s all wasted breath.”
Themis still didn’t fully understand, so she waved her hand irritably and said: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Anyway, just tell me when you need to act.”
Prometheus nodded with a smile.
He was still very satisfied with Themis’s combat power.
As for the gods who were terrified today — busy fleeing and unwilling to resist — that was within his expectations.
But the seeds of rebellion had already been planted — now just a little pressure was needed to make those seeds sprout.
And that pressure came a hundred years later.
After a hundred years of union and nurturing — under the eagerly anticipated gazes of the gods — the Mother Goddess…
Finally gave birth again.
And this time, she gave birth to a being that left all the gods stunned.