As Poseidon and Hades were running toward the realm where they lived, hurrying to warn Odin of the danger Poseidon had sensed in the depths of the ocean, another scene was taking shape in those very depths—one unfolding in heavy silence.
In the abyssal depths of the ocean, where no light could reach and no sound could be heard except the thunder of water and its crushing pressure, several colossal figures stood, their sizes rivaling mountains.
Some were formed of solid stone, others of eternal ice, a few of molten volcanic lava, and the rarest among them were made of enormous trees rooted deep into the ocean floor.
They were the Titans.
The Titans stood in a wide circle, discussing with clear concern the reason their leader had summoned them at this time.
They had not yet finished forging their weapons, nor were they ready to face the dragons in direct combat without proper preparation.
Their voices overlapped, each expressing doubt and questions—until they all suddenly fell silent.
The sound of massive footsteps began to shake the depths of the ocean from afar.
Everyone froze at once. Some stepped back instinctively, focusing their gaze on the direction from which the sound was coming.
Moments later, their leader appeared, walking toward them with a strange calm that did not match the enormity of his body. A broad, radiant smile covered his face.
The Titans were stunned by that smile.
They had not seen him like this since the loss of the continent of Myra and their forced retreat into the depths of the ocean.
Before any of them dared to ask about the reason for his expression, the leader spoke in a joyful voice, carrying a tone of celebration they had not heard from him in a very long time:
"Rejoice, my brothers… something has happened that is worth celebrating."
Silence spread instantly.
No one spoke.
Shock paralyzed them, their eyes widening as they stared at him in disbelief. Since their defeat and downfall, they had never seen him filled with such joy.
Heavy moments passed as the leader looked at them, waiting for a response. When none came, he realized the reason—they had not yet grasped the cause of his happiness.
He was about to explain, but one of the female Titans spoke before him, her voice filled with hope:
"Has a child of Titan blood been born, my leader?"
At her words, the Titans turned toward her in astonishment, as if the idea had never crossed their minds.
But when the leader heard her question, his smile widened even further, and he spoke with pride:
"Yes. I have felt that one of our children is about to be born into this world, my brothers."
The moment the Titans heard this, the place erupted with shouts of joy and celebration.
Voices rose from every direction, words overlapping with overwhelming excitement:
— "How is the child?!"
— "What is it made of?!"
— "Where was it born? We must bring it here!"
— "Yes! We must protect it from those wretched dragons—it is alone out there!"
Chaos filled the depths as every Titan spoke passionately, the news restoring a hope they had long believed to be dead.
The Titan leader watched his people as they rejoiced, not interrupting them immediately.
He remained silent for a while, observing their joyful faces, allowing them to savor this long-awaited happiness after years of loss and despair.
As he was about to step in and explain calmly, the same woman spoke again. She stepped forward slowly and said in a voice filled with wisdom:
"Was the child born far from the continent of Myra, my leader?"
The leader heard her words and looked at her calmly. A faint smile of respect and appreciation appeared on his face as he replied with a dignified tone:
"Yes, Elder… it was born far from the continent of Myra."
The moment she heard this, silence fell suddenly.
The loud discussions stopped, and the chaos that had filled the place moments ago vanished, as if his words had placed a heavy weight upon the entire abyss.
One of the Titans broke the silence hesitantly, speaking with concern:
"Where exactly was it born, my leader? We must bring it here. Even if it was not born on Myra, it is alone, and we must care for it."
Before the leader could respond, the Elder stepped forward once more.
She raised her hand slightly—a clear signal for everyone not to interrupt—then spoke firmly:
"No. We must not leave the depths of the ocean, my brothers.
We must remain hidden here until we complete our preparations for the coming war."
When the Elder spoke these words, the other Titans did not know how to voice their objection—if they even objected at all.
She was the oldest among them, the most ancient in existence, and her status was immense. None dared to openly oppose her.
She continued, her voice calmer now, explaining carefully:
"There is no need to worry.
The dragons cannot leave the continent of Myra at the moment—there is great danger there.
And even if one of them attempts to leave to kill the child, I believe we would reach that dragon before it ever reaches the child."
As she spoke, most of the Titans began nodding in agreement, her words gradually convincing them.
Seeing the acceptance on their faces, the Elder gestured toward her massive body—like a colossal aquatic mountain covered in trees like an ancient, strange forest—and said confidently:
"And there is no need to worry about the child either.
It is a Titan.
If the dragons do not confront it, then it will rule the land where it was born.
Our bodies alone are enough to destroy any living being in this world.
Even as a Titan child, I doubt any creature in its surroundings could defeat it."
Murmurs of agreement rose among the Titans, many voicing their support.
When the leader saw that his people were convinced, he looked at the Elder with sincere respect, silently thanking her for helping him persuade them.
Then he continued himself, speaking reassuringly:
"Do not worry, my brothers.
The place where the child was born is very far from the continent of Myra.
It was born in a special place…
Had the child not been of our blood, I would not have been able to sense it at all."
The Titans were startled by his words and exchanged astonished glances.
One of them asked:
"Where is that place, my leader?
And how could you not sense what surrounds it?"
The leader looked at his people, seeing curiosity fill their eyes.
He sighed deeply, then said:
"I do not know what makes that place special.
I could only sense the child—I felt nothing around it.
But what I am certain of is that the dragons will not sense it,
and that place will be safe for the child."
Then he added firmly:
"Therefore, there is no need to risk leaving the depths of the ocean,
nor to expose ourselves to danger over needless worry."
And silence once again settled over the ocean depths…
but this time, it was a reassuring silence—
one that carried within it the anticipation of what was yet to come.