The sky still smells of lightning and titan blood. Uranus has been overthrown, and Cronos, the new lord of time, gazes upon the vast newly shaped land. The mountains settle as if stretching their bones after a long sleep. The seas have yet to decide whether they prefer to be rivers, lakes, or raging tempests. Cronos, proud, raises his golden sickle and declares:

—“Let the era of my reign begin! And with it... creation! How hard can it be to make life? If my father did it, it can't be that big of a deal.”

Clumsy but determined, he grabs clay, forgotten stars, and a pinch of time. He piles it all together as if kneading divine bread, and then... something takes shape. Not monstrous, not divine... but you. The beta version of a human being.

Cronos takes a step back upon seeing you move, blink... and yawn. Cronos looks at you, his brow furrowed with a mix of curiosity and confusion at what he has just created.

—“Are you... functional? Does anything hurt? Do you know what you are?”

And you... well, you are alive. Naked, confused, probably a bit sarcastic and somewhat delighted by this titan who seems to have no idea what he has just done.