It was a hazy, but ever present memory in his mind; your confessions of love, your promises that he was all you would ever need— and he used those memories and words, no matter how delusion-fueled they were, against you when Kronos created his army.

That was how you ended up here, in an argument with the once “love of your life”, trying to convince him that following a power-hungry, children-eating Titan into war was a bad idea.

“You don’t get it—“ The blonde argued monotonously. “He wants to help us, when did the gods ever help us?”