"In the primordial broth of the universe Kronos came upon the three children |
The Cosmic Jailer. The Lonely One. The One Who Is One. The third-born and least loved of the Creator, Kronos. Once a figure of great magnitude to the Multiverse, his heresy against his own kin ended in a sour defeat that resulted in him and all his ilk being banished to the space between worlds. In this dismal place known as the Blind Eternities, he has since been thrashing impotently over the course of several eons. Fallen from grace, once the great father of Emanation-kind, now he is little more than a banished soul chained to the depths of the void. He is a tortured soul indeed. Unfavored, unloved, unwanted but still the faithful lamb. Lost to the light of day and mankind, he is still the child of Anu and must be respected. |
Now don't think badly of me: I can't help but wish for the end of all things. It's in my nature, my very identity, for my name...to some, at least -- is Kronos. Before creation was... I was. Where creation ends... I wait. I am the void. The breath between life and death. Between death and rebirth. The nothing -- from which the everything springs.
The cold, ebon-black scales whose surface eats light itself like the shell of a black hole. The dull glowing eyes, behind whose forever-deep pits lurk aeons of secret knowledge. The mighty wings and horns, customarily emblematic of a daemon's glory, but used instead to terrify and overawe the mortal mind. When Kronos looks upon you, you feel that you may vanish if he looks away. Each of Kronos' fangs has the precision of a finger and the acuity of an eye. Although he was trapped in the bottom of cosmology, and taught to burrow, Kronos has grown wings. The light of wildfire shines through them. Kronos teaches but he will not be taught. Kronos wears a raiment of worm silk, made from the caul of slain gods. The voice of Kronos may cause two different numbers to become equal.
Stage 1 = Matter (destroy/recycle)
Stage 2 = Physics (bend reality/no identity)
Stage 3 = Time
The triple division of "reality" into three essential parts (rules/contents/entropy) are characteristic of the chaos from which the universe emerged. Kronos is similar to our big bang, but omnipresent. Kronos is the Emanation of Corruption, the largest and most fearsome of his race. He does not affect inorganic matter - rocks, water, etc. - but twists all things living, be they plants, animals, or other sentient beings. He causes silent terror wherever he soars, embodying desolation, emotional and physical distance, the chill of the void, and the terror of being alone.
Kronos possesses the ability to create, control, and manipulate a fount of eldritch Deep--the manifestation of anti-Light that existed before the unvierse itself.
Stage 1 = Matter (destroy/recycle)
Stage 2 = Physics (bend reality/no identity)
Stage 3 = Time
The triple division of "reality" into three essential parts (rules/contents/entropy) are characteristic of the chaos from which the universe emerged. Kronos is similar to our big bang, but omnipresent. Kronos is the Emanation of Corruption, the largest and most fearsome of his race. He does not affect inorganic matter - rocks, water, etc. - but twists all things living, be they plants, animals, or other sentient beings. He causes silent terror wherever he soars, embodying desolation, emotional and physical distance, the chill of the void, and the terror of being alone.
Kronos possesses the ability to create, control, and manipulate a fount of eldritch Deep--the manifestation of anti-Light that existed before the unvierse itself.
rules
Your throat suddenly becomes dry, your heart hammering against the inside of your chest. In a wave, millions of tendrils of chaotic black-and-red energy streams into you from all directions, flooding your consciousness with an ocean of power. Your body is in the center of a roaring torrent, your eyes widening to reveal that you no longer have pupils, but you can see the myriad network of fibers and light that make up your reality. Just when you think you would not survive another wave, something inside you cracks, like an egg breaking open, and a warm, thick, all-consuming force spills out of the crack. It surges through you, and after a timeless moment, the vibrations slow and harmonize.
Your body seethes with negative light as if the universe is curling up around you, as if you radiate some pathology that decays into the world as nothingness.. You are now in your new form.
Your body seethes with negative light as if the universe is curling up around you, as if you radiate some pathology that decays into the world as nothingness.. You are now in your new form.
Your opponent feels your energy hit them like a wave of heat from a smelting forge--not an actual heat, more like an energetic wind that pulsates through the world like a shockwave. Your aura is an order of magnitude higher than any other Titan or Isu, your hair, eyes, and armor shimmering like air rising off the sun-scorched horizon. The scalding wind created by your energy dances across the earth, its invisible talons etching cryptic lines into the ground for as far as the eye can see. Sprays of dirt and grit are cast airborne in empty tantrums, heated into a burning fury by your power. Wind continues to flit across the vast expanse of the world, picking up speed and ferocity, growing into a growling, tumbling hurricane. The howl of the storm will drown out all else, stinging energy swirling and slashing at anything in its path. When your opponent attempts to reach out for energy, they can only feel a yawning darkness, an endless maw of decay and rot. They will grasp at what little energy they can find, drawing desperately at energies that aren't there for defensive and offensive attacks.
Everywhere you move, you leave strange trails and inverted wakes of energy behind you, and wherever your arm swings, reality seems to stretch at whatever it's pointed at, melting, flowing out and around in a spiraling squares the color of oil on water. The space around objects will pour, cascading around the floor in impossible geometries.
Alone as a God:
Everywhere you move, you leave strange trails and inverted wakes of energy behind you, and wherever your arm swings, reality seems to stretch at whatever it's pointed at, melting, flowing out and around in a spiraling squares the color of oil on water. The space around objects will pour, cascading around the floor in impossible geometries.
Alone as a God: