Constellations wheeled overhead according to his will, following patterns that would govern navigation, agriculture, and the measurement of time itself.
He was cosmic order, the divine mathematics that underpinned reality, the understanding that the universe followed rules that could be mapped and predicted.
Cronus understood cycles in a way his father Chronos never had.
Where Chronos was time's passage, Cronus was time's harvest.
He saw that all things had their appointed hour, that growth must be followed by reaping, that nothing could escape the eternal cycle of beginning and ending, planting and harvest.
He was seasons incarnate, the patient understanding that what was sown would eventually be reaped.
Against his inevitability stood Mnemosyne, who refused to let anything be forgotten.
She was memory itself, the thread that connected past to present, the preservation of knowledge across generations.
