Cronus' system: Against the gods

Jefferson's aura erupted like a dam breaking, flooding the chamber in a crushing tide. The stone beneath Rex's boots cracked, and his chest felt like it would implode. But it wasn't Rex who bore the brunt—no, Jefferson's focus was entirely on the trembling man before him.

Oliver Jace collapsed to one knee, his lungs rattling as though invisible hands were wringing them dry. His veins bulged, his eyes bloodshot, his breath shallow.

"Talk," Jefferson's voice carried no emotion, yet it rumbled with a menace that could topple mountains.

Jace coughed violently, trying to resist, but Jefferson's killing intent tightened around him like chains. Finally, his spirit shattered.

"My name… Oliver Jace…" he wheezed, the words forced out through grit teeth. "…I am from the Valenbrook family."

The moment the name left his lips, Jefferson's aura stilled—calm, yet sharp as an unsheathed blade. His eyes narrowed, and his tone sank into frost.

"Go on."

Jace gasped in desperate relief, gulping down air like a drowning man. "Our plan… was simple. To spark war… between the Voss and Valenbrook. A blood feud—set in motion by whispers and blades."

Jefferson's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Jace shook his head weakly. "I don't know why the Valenbrooks want war with your family. I only follow orders. The one who led us… was not me." His lips quivered as though even saying the next part brought him closer to death. "…It was the woman with me."

Jefferson froze. His memory flashed back to Rex's casual words, the ones he had brushed off too lightly.

"She didn't even touch me, Jeff. Just said one word and—bam! I was flying across the room."

His heart sank. That woman.

Jefferson pulled out a small crystal communicator and linked it. "Rex."

The channel crackled, then Rex's voice came through, relaxed and almost mocking. "Don't tell me you finally missed me, Jeff."

"This isn't the time. That woman you mentioned… the one who sent you flying. Do you know who she is?"

Rex was silent for a beat, then sighed. "…No clue. Just that… she knew me. And her voice… it was familiar. Like something at the back of my head, scratching at me. But I couldn't place it."

Jefferson's gaze turned steely. Familiar. Dangerous. And commanding enough to bend reality.

"Stay alert," Jefferson muttered, more to himself than Rex.

Another City – God Tower Headquarters

The night was still. The sprawling fortress of the God Tower loomed against the horizon, a citadel of steel and obsidian where every shadow was sharpened into blades. Torches burned along the walls, mixing with arcane lights that shimmered like a constellation.

At the gates, guards stood in disciplined silence, their auras sharp and polished.

Then the silence broke.

A woman stepped into view, clad in flowing white, her face veiled. Each stride she took was unhurried, but carried weight enough to tilt the world. The guards tightened their grips on halberds as she approached.

Her voice cut through the air, calm yet absolute.

"I'm here… for the crystal."

The God Tower erupted in motion. Horns blared. From every corner of the fortress, warriors surged forth—archers on the walls, spellcasters channeling runes, swordsmen closing in like a tide.

Not one hesitated.

The woman's head tilted, almost in disappointment. "Back off."

The words pulsed like a commandment. The front line was blasted away, flung across the courtyard like dolls, their armor denting from sheer impact.

Those further back gritted their teeth, resisting with sheer willpower. "Don't falter! Form the diamond!" shouted a captain. The formation clicked into place—four shield bearers locking together, a vanguard charging forward, while mages began a joint incantation.

The woman whispered, "Fall."

Their knees buckled. Every soldier in the front collapsed as if the word itself bent their bones.

But the captain roared, slamming his spear into the earth, his aura resisting. "Suppress her voice! Seal the air!"

Instantly, glowing runes circled the courtyard, muting the vibrations of sound. Dozens of experts moved at once, cutting her voice from reality itself.

The woman smiled under her veil. "Clever."

With a flick of her wrist, a silver dagger shimmered into her hand. Her movements blurred as she stepped inside the seal's range. Three warriors struck in perfect sync, their blades aiming at vital points.

Clang—clang—clang!

Her dagger danced. A twist, a flick, a slash—three men fell in a heartbeat, not dead, but sprawled, their weapons shattering from the precision of her strikes.

An elemental mage hurled a torrent of flame, another conjured chains of ice. The air howled with magic, but the woman glided through like mist, her dagger slicing through constructs as though they were illusions.

Dozens became hundreds.

Every corridor of the fortress turned into a gauntlet. Hidden crossbows launched bolts tipped with venom. Golems of stone and steel awoke, stomping down halls. Assassins lunged from ceilings, blades coated in cursed poison.

The woman's power thrummed with each word.

"Break." The golem cracked down the middle, crumbling into rubble.

"Sleep." Half a dozen assassins collapsed mid-leap, unconscious before they hit the ground.

Yet the God Tower adapted. Their strategists directed from above, forcing her into choke points, layering traps—explosive runes, shifting walls, gravitational seals.

The battle was no longer a mere skirmish. It was like invading a living dungeon.

And still she advanced.

Her dagger flashed like a streak of moonlight. Her words bent reality itself. For every trap sprung, she countered with a phrase. For every ambush, she carved her way through with steel.

Sweat dotted her brow. Her pace slowed, but her resolve burned.

Finally, she reached the innermost chamber.

There it was—the crystal, glowing faintly within an encrypted black box, sealed with runes older than nations.

The last line of defense stood before it: five high elders of the God Tower, their combined aura pressing down like a mountain. Each one was a peak expert, their strength bordering the realm of demigods.

"You will not take it," one declared, brandishing a staff.

The woman exhaled softly. "Open."

The encrypted box clicked, runes unraveling like threads cut by invisible shears.

"No—!"

Before the elders could move, the box opened, and the crystal lifted into her hand.

Her veil shifted slightly as she whispered, almost tenderly, "Mine."

The chamber shook as the God Tower's elites lunged at her in unison, but by then—she was already gone.

Only silence remained, broken by the flicker of the crystal's vanished light.