Cronus' system: Against the gods

Jefferson's knuckles were white against the rail as he looked down into the chamber below. He had seen Seraphina bleed before, but never like this. Her pale skin was streaked crimson, her breathing ragged as the healers swarmed her bed. The faint shimmer of divine aura around her flickered like a dying flame.

"Unacceptable…" Jefferson's voice was a growl. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

The Tower's elite medics worked in silence, fear thick in the air. None of them dared to look Jefferson in the eye. Every hiss of bandage and every muttered incantation felt like it echoed.

Jefferson's jaw tightened. The threat wasn't the likes of which Seraphina hadn't handled before. She was good tower's number 3 elite. He didn't expect it to escalate.

He turned sharply, his heavy cloak brushing the floor as he left the infirmary. The guards lining the halls straightened instantly, their spears clicking against the polished marble.

The lower levels of the Tower were colder, darker. A place for prisoners too dangerous to be killed outright. Although not as chilling as the prison for the demi-gods.....this still gave the creeps.

There, bound by chains forged from celestial steel, was the old man. Frost still seeped from his cracked skin, curling into mist with every shallow breath. Even restrained, his presence was heavy—like winter itself lingered in the cell.

Jefferson stepped inside, dismissing the guards with a flick of his hand. The door slammed shut.

For a moment, silence.

Then Jefferson's eyes narrowed, his voice cutting through the frost.

"You hurt her."

The old man chuckled, low and broken, blood freezing at the corner of his mouth. "Hurt her? Boy… she's lucky to be alive...."

Jefferson's aura surged, pressing the chains tighter against the old man's body until they groaned. "You will answer me. Who are you really?"

The old man's eyes flickered open—cold, ancient, and mocking.

"…Ask your little monster," he rasped, lips curling into a frostbitten grin. "He knows."

Jefferson's face hardened.

"Then I'll make you talk.

The cell shook as Jefferson's killing intent filled the chamber, rattling chains and dust from the ceiling.

"He's Old Man Jace," Rex's calm voice drifted from behind, tone flat yet sharp. "Shop owner across the street. I buy cookies from him."

The old man's head sagged forward, then tilted up with effort. His swollen lips cracked into a smile.

"Hey, boy… how did you like my cookies?"

Jefferson's eyes burned like coals. "You nearly killed Seraphina, and that's what you ask?"

Rex leaned casually against the bars, voice steady but mocking. "They were good. Soft in the middle, crunchy on the edges. Shame about the poison aftertaste."

"Rex," Jefferson growled without turning his head. "Stop it."

The old man coughed, then gave a wheezing chuckle. "That's the… special batch.....my family's secret recipe"

Rex's lips twitched upward. "See? Even dying, he's still trying to make a sale. Respect the grind."

"Rex." Jefferson's tone was sharp, ice-cold warning.

Rex tilted his head, ignoring him. "What? You want him to spill secrets? Buy a box. Guarantee he'll talk faster than your chains will make him."

Jefferson's killing intent pulsed harder, pressing down on both men like gravity itself. The old man's smirk faded, his chest heaving.

"Boy… you don't scare me."

Jeff's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll show you why you should be scared."

Rex pushed off the wall, stepping closer, voice still calm, still cutting.

"Careful, Jeff. You break him too fast, his family recipe dies with him and you won't get to eat your favorite cookie anymore.... priorities first"

Jefferson's knuckles whitened. "…Rex."

"Fine, fine…" Rex raised both hands in mock surrender, but his smirk lingered. The temperature dropped sharply. Jefferson's silver eyes ignited, his aura twisting into something ancient, predatory. The weight of it hit like an avalanche, forcing Rex's knees to bend.

"I'd advise you to step out, Rex," Jefferson's voice rumbled—low, guttural—like a demon that had crawled out of a thousand-year abyss.

Rex's expression flickered, just for a second. That tone again…

Without hesitation, he poured Aether into his legs and blurred out of the chamber, the heavy iron doors slamming shut behind him.

That suffocating pressure… it was the same as that night—when Jefferson lost control and almost erased everything.

Then it began.

"ARRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream tore through the prison walls, raw and unhuman. The ground beneath Rex trembled with each echo. He stood outside, jaw tightening, listening to the chorus of agony.

He exhaled slowly. "Yeah… not gonna ask what that is."

Another scream followed, then another—each one shorter, more desperate. Rex rubbed the back of his neck, muttering. "Damn. If he's still got the strength to sell cookies after this, I'll buy two boxes."

The door creaked. Cold air bled from the cracks, thick with the stench of blood and something darker.

Inside, Jefferson's voice was a whisper, yet it carried like thunder.

"Now… tell me who sent you."

The old man's voice rasped back, trembling but stubborn. "You think… I'll talk… boy?"

There was a sickening crunch. Another scream.

Outside, Rex leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket, silver eyes glinting. "Earth won't be a safe place if this guy turned evil"

The cell rattled as Jefferson's aura thickened, pressing down like an invisible mountain. The old man's breaths came sharp, shallow, his shoulders shaking under the crushing weight.

Jefferson wasn't tortured him in the traditional way of knives and cuts. All he had to do was release his aether. The pressure from it alone was enough torture

If Jace had to put it in words, it was like millions of arrows were piercing him repeatedly and the weight of a thousand mountains was on him at the same time.

His knees finally buckled, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

"…My name… is Oliver Jace…" he forced out, voice cracking under strain. "…and I am… from the Valenbrook family."

Instantly, the suffocating pressure eased. Not gone, but reined in. Jefferson's eyes narrowed, a faint silver glow still lingering. His tone cut like frost.

"Go on."