The Time of Zeus Book 1: These Three Kings
Copyright© 2024 by Carlos Santiago
Prologue: Birth of Monsters
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Prologue: Birth of Monsters - In the aftermath of the Great Titan War, the sons of Cronos—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—draw straws to determine their realms. Zeus claims Greece and Olympus, Poseidon takes the sea, and Hades becomes the ruler of the Underworld. Follow their personal journeys as they acclimate to their new responsibilities and face the challenges that come with their newfound power.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Fan Fiction High Fantasy War Alternate History Far Past Paranormal Magic Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Grand Parent Cream Pie Exhibitionism Big Breasts Body Modification Nudism Revenge Royalty Violence
“There are decades when nothing happens; and there are weeks when decades happen.”
— Attributed to Vladimir Ilyich Lenin (1870–1924), revolutionary leader and founder of the Russian Soviet state. Also widely circulated as a Russian proverb. Though frequently cited in political discourse, no definitive source exists in Lenin’s published works; commonly associated with writings and speeches circa 1917 during the Russian Revolution. Public domain.
Before there was Time, before there was the Earth, before there was a sun, there was only Chaos, and they created divine children; each would be a unique embodiment of what the Progenitor conceived to be fundamental aspects of existence.
First came Erebus, a shadowy figure that emerged from the deepest recesses of Chaos, so this Primordial personified everlasting tenebrosity. Lightlessness would be how this new Realm would find its origins, so its first countenance would need to be the black reflection of Chaos through Erebus.
Next emerged Gaia, a magnificent and vast entity, the Earth herself. From her, the fertile soil would grow the trees, the mountains and caves would have their stone to mine. Rivers would course through the land, greenery would grow, and life would be abundant, but this would all come from the fecundity of this child of the creator.
Tartarus followed as the embodiment of the abyss that was part of the infinite chasm of Chaos. His personification was that of an old withering man. His flesh was gray and decaying, yet still there was an eminent quality to this creature.
Eros soon appeared as a radiant and winged being. In his near nudity, he embodied love and desire. No accessory in sight, yet he seemed unfinished to the eye of his maker. Nevertheless, it was he who could make the connections more powerful than that of violence. Of forgiveness, rage, war, wisdom, logic, and power, it was love which had the power to overcome them all; only one quality in existence might yet be greater than this offspring to Chaos.
Finally, Nyx stepped forth from the vastness of the Progenitor. She was the very personification of Night. In the years to come, a riddle would come about a chicken and an egg, but it was Night that came LONG before the day. She was pale with the blackest hair and a more mundane body than all of her siblings, but of captivating loveliness, there would be few to compare. This was why poets would discuss the beauty and mystique of the nocturnal world.
Chaos observed their divine progeny calculatingly. They marveled at the diversity and wonder of these creations, but never did they stop equating a value and considering thoughts of usefulness to them. Each child represented a primal and essential aspect needed for this chronal singularity of Existence.
Moments would pass, but without an essence of chronal measurement, the Progenitor could not know how long had passed since the moment of their making, and the interruption that was to come.
The realm of Chaos was where starlight and platforms intertwined to form a celestial tapestry of infinite wonder for the Progenitor to exist. This place was both an extension of the Progenitor and separate from them. Smaller, finite beings would struggle to comprehend that detail because these qualities were not easily communicated nor were they common to experience; nevertheless, for the Progenitor, this sort of existence was their truth.
Tartarus appeared before the Progenitor. Despite the intrusion, the boundless expanse stretched out around the two beings. The recognition of parent and son was not said, but the very fabric of existence seemed to twinkle appreciation of the moment. Woven from raw illumination and the ethereal bridges of possibility, the Realm was glad for the two to be together.
For the Primordial deity, the vast expanse of Chaos’ Realm was almost overwhelming to his senses. He had gone onto the plane of Greece. His portion of existence would become its own Realm in time. A place where death would rule and beings could go forevermore.
However, to be separated from the Progenitor only to return once more created a sense of vertigo within him. The effects were immediate yet staggering. He focused himself, for he wanted to express himself to his sire as near an equal as possible.
Tartarus stared upon his creator with reverence. In this lucent and ever-shifting realm, Tartarus recognized the chasm that separated a Primordial from the Progenitor.
“Chaos,” Tartarus said deferentially. “With the Primordials born and the gift of the Realm of Greece as our domain, what shall become of us?”
No answer came to his question. Tartarus could not know why this was, but the Progenitor knew this was not the true inquiry that brought the Abyss itself to their Realm.
“What of existence? Here, your chaos reigns, but our home is one of order. Who shall have dominion?”
Chaos regarded Tartarus with a profound, knowing gaze. This was the question their offspring had come to ask, and so this matter was worthy of their attention. Chaos’ voice echoed with the starlit expanse of their Realm. To speak was a powerful gift, and their resonance transcended mere sound as a reflection of ancient wisdom of worlds lost.
“Tartarus,” Chaos intoned, “you shall rule over the realm you created.”
Tartarus bristled with excitement but then ... deflated.
“Does this answer displease you?” Chaos inquired.
He had come in the hopes that he might rule the Realm of Greece, then surely he would be worthy of his greatest desire: Gaia.
To answer his creator when his request so incredibly small felt beneath him. Silence was all he returned to his Progenitor.
When Tartarus just stared at the Progenitor, Chaos gave a look that Tartarus believed was annoyance. With the Progenitor, it was difficult to tell; after all, they were this permanent fixture that was ever-changing. Further, Chaos was a solitary being, so guests were mildly discouraged.
With these factors in mind, Tartarus struggled to voice that which he desired.
“You are entwined with the very threads of existence,” Chaos mused with the depth of eons. “There are plans in motion for you, Child of Mine.”
“What shall I do?” Tartarus wondered.
“What would you want?” Chaos queried.
“I want...” Tartarus struggled.
His pride prevented him from being forthright with his heart’s longing, yet still, the words did come because they were within him, and they needed to be released.
“I wish to be united with Gaia,” he said unceremoniously.
Chaos did not laugh nor frown so far as Tartarus understood the matter. Rather, this near-infinite, cosmically powerful entity considered their child’s request.
“Your purpose is to shape the world that is to come,” Chaos said. “You are not to focus on one matter more than another, especially your sister’s affection.”
The words reverberated through the very essence of Tartarus.
The Primordial felt a surge of elation unlike any he had ever known right before he felt crestfallen. The prospect of ruling over a realm filled him with joy, but this was not how he wished for reality to be.
The longing to marry Gaia, the Earth herself, and rule as equals came before even rulership. However, Chaos did not seem to budge.
Tartarus was about to bring up his request once more, hoping that Chaos would reconsider.
“If your sister is lonely, and this isolation distracts either of you,” Chaos said slowly, “then I shall make her a counterpart to be her equal, and your superior, Tartarus.”
“What?” Tartarus asked, heart breaking.
“The Earth shall couple with the Sky,” Chaos mused. “That will suit my Realm.”
Tartarus had so much to say, to rail, and complain, but rather, he blinked and suddenly, he was returned to the Underworld where his power was creating a kingdom of the dead.
As this was before the birth of Cronos, no being could entirely be sure whether it was a week or a year. The sun had not been made. The idea of measuring the temporal passing had not been conceived, so there was no chronological order to things. Perhaps they moved forward, but with Chaos’ design, it was altogether possible that they could end up in yesterday.
From the intricate fabric of starlight and celestial platforms, Chaos emerged to stand before Gaia. Gaia was Mother Earth herself. She would bless the Realm of Greece with the gift of fertility.
Chaos considered the Realm that they had helped make. New beings would come. Seeing this, Chaos touched Gaia to give a great gift. The Great Progenitor endowed the Primordial with something new.
Before the other Primordials, the Last Primordial was conceived and born. From the power of Chaos and the body of Gaia came Ouranos, the powerful Sky Father.
Erebus and Tartarus looked upon one another. Erebus was unsure what this new creature’s existence would mean, but Tartarus knew in inflamed jealousy what this birth would mean. Gaia would never be his.
Tartarus watched with a mixture of curiosity and angered expectation as the newest member of their divine family took form. Tartarus had long believed that he, as one of the primordials created by Chaos, should rightfully ascend to a position of dominion and authority over the cosmos. His heart swelled with ambition to be with Gaia, the Earth, as her equal and consort.
However, as Chaos reached out to crown the newly created Ouranos, a profound shift occurred in the very fabric of reality. Order was being born by Chaos when the Progenitor bestowed upon Ouranos the celestial crown, a symbol of rulership over the heavens, and blessed the union of Gaia and Ouranos. This divine gesture marked the beginning of a cosmic union, a partnership that would shape the world to come.
For Tartarus, the sight of the crown adorning Ouranos’ head and the blessing of their union ignited a storm of emotions within him. Jealousy formed in the deepest part of the abyss to cast shadows over his romantic ambitions. His essence was engulfed by his covetous resentment. Gaia was meant to be his queen.
Dreams of becoming a ruler and marrying Gaia slipped through his fingers, yet his resentment could find no hold. He was no match for Chaos, and if Gaia chose to be with Ouranos, who was Tartarus to stand in the way of her happiness? Only bitter, spiteful envy was left for him, and he recoiled at its taste.
As the other Primordials rejoiced and Gaia and Ouranos embraced their newfound union, Tartarus shrank back from the new king and queen as well as the presence of Chaos. Discontentment mixed with resentment until the potent creation grew within himself; the ambition to claim dominion and the longing to possess Gaia intimately remained but there was nothing but to be consumed by himself. He would become one with the Realm he created. If he could not have the prize he wanted, then he would remove himself from existence. Gaia would not so much as deserve his presence in her life...
The realization that the destiny he had envisioned had been altered by the very hand that shaped the cosmos also burned this being. Chaos needed to be punished too, but as it stood, there was nothing to do.
He was but one Primordial, and the Progenitor had not been moved by his requisition. Only the grand design for reality mattered. So what if Tartarus needed to be discarded? If it was necessary for Chaos’ outline for life, then so be it.
Tartarus would take the only leverage he had and go. He would make himself invisible to their eyes of others and be gone from them all.
Centuries turned into millenia. One king slayed another, and soon another son wish to do to his father that which his father had done to become the Ruler of Olympus
In the midst of the Great Titan War, Gaia was becoming more and more aware of the damage created by the clashes between the Titans and the young gods. Her once-pristine lands of Greece were becoming marred and scarred by the actions of her offspring, and their offspring.
Gaia cast her gaze upon the desolating turmoil and devastation. Tears pooled in her eyes as she took in the crumbling mountains and the scorched forests. While most of the carnage was contained to the valley of Thessaly, that did not stop overflow of their battles’ defilement to her lands. The pain that her beloved realm felt was breaking her heart.
Events made matters clear; Mother Earth would be unable to bear the suffering. She decided to seek counsel in the darkest depths of the Underworld where other Primordials resided. If there were answers to be found, it would be with her siblings.
She descended into the shadowed realm with ease, manifesting from her island to the desolate realm of the dead. She saw the specters of her former husband, Ouranos, as well as some of the Titans who had died.
Despite his death occurring before the Great War, Gaia had not seen fit to visit her once-husband. She had loved him for many centuries; the deepest veracity of her heart was that she loved him still. After all, he had been made by herself and Chaos to be Gaia’s husband.
However, with time, existence and Gaia’s affections had changed. If she had not lain with Zeus, she would still not feel particularly attached to Ouranos. His betrayal by having intercourse with their youngest daughter, Rhea, had been a line that no father should cross.
When her thoughts returned to her, Gaia noticed Menoetius and Iapetus sitting in a corner, having a discussion, which was not all that strange given they were both father and son, and they were some of the first casualties in the Great War.
Theia and Phoebe were sitting together, weeping. Gaia looked upon Theia, Phoebe, and Iapetus specifically. As her children, the Greater Titans held a special place in her heart. She wished so much that she could have saved them from their fateful deaths during the Great War.
However, in the process of her plans, Gaia accepted that lives would be lost in deposing Cronos. After all, he was far more of a danger than someone like Ouranos. Cronos’ power stretched throughout all of Greece, and with more divinities in existence, the dangers were that much greater.
Ridding the living world of Ouranos had been easier because of that discrepancy. Perhaps that clean simplicity was the exception, not the rule going forward. This was just another facet of existence that Gaia was keeping in mind. As the Primordial of the very soil and dirt itself, Gaia would be the everlasting sentinel of the land. She would need to keep many things in mind if she was going to last.
Gaia had walked further into the dominion of the dead when she felt the palpable presence of Nyx, shrouding her in an inky embrace.
“You’re lurking,” Gaia said with sisterly familiarity.
Nyx flashed her starlit eyes at Gaia before materializing out of nothing. “Great Mother Earth,” Nyx whispered. Her voice was like a soft breeze in the eternal night. “What brings you to my realm?”
Gaia was careful in her answer. Truthfully, she was not sure. As such, she tried to be as honest as she could, without revealing her uncertainty. “I have seen the suffering of the land, and the chaos that engulfs our world. I have come for guidance from Erebus or even Tartarus.”
Nyx smiled at Gaia. While most other beings might have been insulted to learn that their sibling would rather seek help from another sibling, Mother Night did not mind in the slightest.
“Sister,” Nyx said with compassion and understanding. “There is a palace nestled deep within the heart of the Underworld. It is a monument to Tartarus, but he has long since become part of the Underworld.”
“Thank you, Nyx,” Gaia said. She turned towards the direction Nyx motioned at.
“You will likely not find anything,” Nyx replied in her distant, starry voice.
“That’s okay,” Gaia said. “I just feel I need to do something. I don’t especially care if I find an answer. I will not sit back and do nothing though.”
“As opposed to me, who sits in the Underworld?”
“I did not say that, Nyx,” Gaia said, exhaling.
Contrition was not strong enough of a word for what the Earth Primordial felt. Never had she intended to offend her sister. While they were not close, they were family, bonded by the greatest being in all of existence.
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