Chapter 117 - 16: The Beginning
Deep beneath the bones of the earth, where light dared not wander and ancient heat pulsed through obsidian stone, Porphyrion—the towering King of the Giants—stood before his brethren.
They gathered by the hundred, monstrous and divine, their bodies forged from chaos and war.
Each one radiated a presence that made the ground tremble.
They stood shoulder to shoulder in a great obsidian amphitheater carved from the very underbelly of the world—a place older than Olympus, untouched by time, seething with dark energy.
Porphyrion, crowned with a helm of black flame and wielding a colossal spear of broken starlight, raised his hand to silence them.
The clamor of their hunger, their roars, their anticipation of violence stilled into breathless focus.
"Brothers!" Porphyrion’s voice boomed like a god’s thunder, shaking the cavern. "For too long we have waited in the shadows. For too long we have watched as those who proclaimed themselves as rulers of the cosmos destroy the very world. But that ends—today!"
His words echoed like war drums.
He stepped forward, tall as a mountain, muscles rippling with power.
His eyes glowed like twin furnaces, and the air itself twisted around his form.
Behind him, monstrous shapes stirred—dozens of colossal figures, each born of rebellion and wrath.