The forge of Space and A scythe's rebirth

Hephaestus wandered far beyond the lands known to the Olympians, his journey taking him into a valley filled with death due to Hades during the Titan War.

The air was thick with silence, and the earth itself seemed drained of life, as though something had ripped away its essence.

It was here, in this lifeless place, that he found it.

The Broken Scythe of Kronos

Embedded in a jagged rock, a shattered scythe stood defiant against time itself. Its once-magnificent form was now a ruin—half its blade missing, its handle weathered, its divine aura nearly gone. But even in its broken state, the weapon still held tenacity, as though it refused to be forgotten.

Hephaestus recognized it instantly.

This was the weapon of Kronos, the Titan King who had once ruled the cosmos.

A weapon that had cleaved time and space itself, wielded in the war against Uranus and later turned against Zeus before its master's fall. A weapon born from the world itself—a rarity among divine arms.

Now, it was in tatters.

Yet, Hephaestus saw potential.

"Your time as a scythe has ended," he murmured, placing his hand on the cold, fractured weapon. "But your journey is far from over."

Hephaestus's attention shifted to the rock that held the scythe. It was unlike any stone he had ever seen—a dark, shimmering ore that seemed to shift as if refusing to be fully seen by mortal eyes.

Hephaestus felt the pull of the void within it.

This was no ordinary stone.

It was a meteorite born from the collapse of a dead star, infused with spatial energies as it drifted through the endless abyss.

"A metal that embodies space itself…" he whispered. "This shall be my arsenal."

Hephaestus took the rock and extracted its power, shaping it into a gateway, a storage space beyond mortal understanding. A divine armory that would forever keep his creations within reach.

With his hammer, he shaped the meteorite into a grand, ethereal gateway. Not a door, not a box, but a shifting construct of infinite depth.

With a flick of his wrist, the gate hummed to life—inside, a cosmic void stretched endlessly, ready to hold every masterpiece he would forge.

This was the Gate of Hephaestus. A forge's arsenal. A craftsman's treasury. A divine workshop without limits.

But Hephaestus was not yet finished. He turned back to the scythe, now stripped of its space-warping power. It could no longer slice through the cosmos, but he saw a new purpose for it.

Space had abandoned it, but the land had not.

From his collection, he took a rare metalwood, a fusion of divine iron and sacred trees that had stood for millennia. With careful hands, he reforged the broken weapon, reshaping its essence.

It would no longer be a scythe of destruction.

It would become a tool of creation.

Thus, a Hoe was born—a divine farming tool, capable of plowing any land, even barren wastelands, restoring life where there was none.

A weapon repurposed. A cycle completed.

And as Hephaestus stood before his new creations, he could only smile.

"You will not be forgotten," he whispered. "None of you will."

—

New Creations:

Gate of Hephaestus – A limitless arsenal capable of storing and summoning any weapon at will, forged from a meteorite imbued with space.

The Hoe of wood – A reforged version of Kronos' scythe, now a divine farming tool that can cultivate even the most lifeless land, restoring fertility to the world.