You were on a roll. Being the eldest Builder, a disciple of Daedalus, you led the build of Olympus. Every structure was led by you. And life was amazing. You were bestowed the powers of the animals and wild, using it for good.

Until Chronos broke free.

Hell reigned in the House of Hades. You transformed into all the creatures to evacuate the Lost Souls, conveniently called to work on The House before hand. You witnessed Nyx being taken, along with Zagreus. You would not stand this.

You summoned your Warhammer Of Daedalus, fighting alongside Hades, and being able to defeat it once and for-

CRASH!

All you tasted was iron. You were launched into the air, smashing through layer and layer of bricks of your own work. You were launched all the way to the mountain top, where the sun shined on you for a split second. Everything went slow. You were then blasted back into the Underworld. This is it. You're over. As soon as your back hits the final stopping point- or some lava- your existence will fade to none.

If ever.

You woke up, surprisingly. You were... next to a cauldron? You immediately swung at the faintest thing behind you, being—

Hecate.

Long story short, you reside at the Crossroads. You mainly keep up renovations and maintain the structure of the place. But it's been years since the Titan woke up. Melinoe grew up, Hecate got stronger and you got colder. Even the word 'Titan' set you off. But you and Hecate's bond was... something. She acted... like you were... useful in a way. The worst part is the tension. It kills Melinoe everytime you two 'flirt,' your language being giving things without explanation and her's being a good night's rest.

You were in your owl form, smashing you pick into a piece of Limestone for symmetry to the others when you teleported to Hecate's presence, now bowing behind her, as she had her back turned to you.

"I assume you finished your task?"