In the chaotic world of Chaos, among the five primordial gods born from the most primitive collisions, Gaia—the great earth and mother of all things—was born first.
She was the original source of all gods and beings.
It was because of her that life began and evolution started in this world.
The other four primordial gods—the Abyss, Desire, the Underworld, and Darkness—had almost no personification.
They were more like pure laws, born to maintain the functioning of this new world.
In other words, only Gaia was the true primordial goddess with her own love, hate, and emotions.
Her laws of reproduction were the source of all things, and the conception of all living beings in this world was under her protection.
But now her most beloved child—and also her most respected husband—the great King of the Gods Uranus, Lord of the Heavens, was about to deprive all living beings in this world of their right to reproduce.
How could Gaia accept that?
Violating the laws of reproduction wasn’t just about depriving her of her right to reproduce—depriving other living beings of their right to reproduce was also a serious offense against her, the Mother Earth, and hindered the development of the entire world.
However, Uranus went his own way, completely ignoring Gaia’s advice and anger.
He was already the King of the Gods, possessing the power of creation.
His will was the most authoritative law—and even Gaia, the powerful primordial goddess, could not stop him in the slightest.
The gods, of course, even if they didn’t want to, could only obediently bow their heads and accept it.
The coronation ceremony of the King of the Gods, watched by all the gods, ended rather unpleasantly.
Prometheus obediently followed his father Iapetus, not daring to stray a single step.
The prophecy he had delivered on the sacred mountain had undoubtedly drawn everyone’s attention to him.
Although the first generation of gods was displeased with him—or even hated him—they all hesitated before acting against him.
After all, anyone who attacked him now would confirm their rebellious intentions and would have to face the wrath of the great Father Uranus.
But inaction didn’t mean he would be treated well.
If looks could kill, Prometheus would have been torn to pieces long ago.
Under such pressure, Prometheus could only follow in his father’s footsteps, keeping his eyes down and pretending to be a quail.
There was no escape from this—prophets very easily attracted hatred.
Even hiding behind his father’s back, he couldn’t avoid the sarcastic remarks.
“Prometheus, do you have any idea how much your prophecy will affect this budding divine court?
You’ve ruined us!”
As soon as they descended from the sacred mountain, Atlas, who was also following Iapetus, began to complain, his eyes full of hostility as he looked at Prometheus standing beside him.
Atlas, Iapetus and Clymene’s eldest son, possessed moderate divine power but had no specific laws or divine authority.
However, he had inherited Iapetus’s immense strength.
Iapetus, along with his three brothers—the primordial gods—had once supported the four corners of the universe, expanding the world, and his own power was naturally immense.
But Atlas had inherited not only his father’s great strength and courage, but also Iapetus’s fiery temper—his impatience and inability to control his emotions.
And indeed, before they had even fully left the sacred mountain, he couldn’t hold back and attacked Prometheus.
At that moment, the other first-generation gods and their descendants hadn’t yet dispersed, and as soon as this commotion broke out, they all secretly turned their attention to it.
The wise ocean goddess Clymene realized the inappropriateness of the situation and frowned, scolding: “Atlas, don’t be rude.”
She was holding Epimetheus, who had fallen asleep crying.
The little child fidgeted restlessly in his mother’s arms.
“Did I say something wrong?
He’s the one who harmed all of us gods!”
Atlas raised his voice even louder, filled with indignation: “If it weren’t for him, Father would never have doubted us!”
However, Iapetus did not stop his eldest son.
His expression was also unfriendly, and he clearly agreed with Atlas’s words and partly blamed Prometheus.
After all, he too was one of those suspected by the King of the Gods Uranus—and all because of Prometheus.
As more and more gods paid attention to him, it became increasingly difficult for Prometheus to stay unnoticed.
To prevent the conflict from escalating, he finally spoke:
“Atlas, my brother, you need to understand one thing: I am merely an observer of fate, not its creator.”
He tried to explain the nature of prophecy—not just to Atlas, but to the surrounding first-generation gods and the two gods on the mountain.
“I cannot change fate; I can only catch a glimpse of a corner of it.
And observation has its price—that’s the cost of seeing.”
“Or do you think I should have deceived His Majesty the Great King of the Gods and not revealed what I saw?”
This was undoubtedly a heavy burden.
Prometheus also reminded the gods that he had initially refused to make any prophecy, but His Majesty the King of the Gods had insisted on knowing the truth.
He couldn’t deceive His Majesty, so he had no choice but to tell the truth.
Moreover, His Majesty the King of the Gods had not reacted strongly to such a prophecy—so what right did the gods have to be outraged?
Or were they actually plotting rebellion?
By this time, the wise gods had already understood Prometheus’s intent and held their breath, unwilling to get involved in this mess.
Some more sensitive individuals could even feel the oppressive gaze coming from the sacred mountain and dared not show any unusual expression.
Unfortunately, wise gods were always in the minority—and Atlas, who possessed only moderate divine power, didn’t notice the cold stare from the mountaintop; he remained resentful.
“As you yourself said, you’re just an observer—so what good are you?
You might as well not have been born!
This world doesn’t need any prophetic laws!”
“So-called prophecies are just tricks driven by self-interest.
What the world really needs is the strongest power!”
Saying this, Atlas looked down on Prometheus: “You were born powerful, but I don’t see it.
I can shift mountains and redirect rivers—what can you actually do?”
“All you do is open your mouth and spew those disgusting, useless words!
Someone like you doesn’t deserve to exist in this world!”
Enraged, Atlas declared the entire Law of the Prophet useless and worthless, considering it completely nonexistent—and without even realizing it, he demeaned the value of other laws.
But Prometheus didn’t get angry when he heard this—because he could feel the gaze from the mountain.
Looking at the furious Atlas standing before him, he suddenly said, “Do you really believe that everything should be based on strength?
And that all other laws are useless?”
“Yes!
Strength should be above all else!
Before absolute power, all laws are meaningless!”
The straightforward and hot-tempered Atlas completely failed to grasp the double-edged nature of these words and readily accepted them, not realizing he was being led into a trap.
His words were too absolute—as if any law not based on power was equivalent to opportunism—which made many of the first-generation gods who practiced non-power-based laws secretly frown.
However, these words deeply moved the straightforward Iapetus, who smiled approvingly.
But before he could praise his eldest son, a wild laugh came from the mountain.
“What a powerful ideology!
Well done, child—what’s your name?”
The expressions of everyone present changed drastically.
They all recognized the voice as the supreme Lord of the Heavens, the great King of the Gods Uranus!
Atlas was startled by the voice, and then his face lit up with joy.
He quickly lowered his head and declared: “My name is Atlas, son of Iapetus!”
“Very good!
Atlas, your directness and courage have won my heart.
Seeing your strength and bravery, I, in the name of the King of the Gods, grant you the title of Heaven-Bearing God!
In this world, strength shall be honored!”
As his words descended to the earth, the entire world rumbled—for this was a descending law!
From this moment on, Atlas was appointed by the King of the Gods as the Heaven-Bearing God!
At this moment, the expressions of all the gods who did not follow power-based laws changed.
They seemed to have a vague premonition…
The world was about to change!
Only Prometheus, standing in the crowd, watched everything unfold exactly as he had foreseen.
Atlas, as he had wished, had allied himself with the King of the Gods—and had even incurred the hatred of the other gods.
He couldn’t help but smile, the corners of his mouth curling almost imperceptibly.
The gods of this era were truly charming—so simple, so sincere…