XXXV The Titans Secret Part II Side Effects

Pan was left alone, hurt, and angry in the ancient sacred forest.
After hearing from the wise tree that the Titans remained in Tartarus and the Olympians still ruled the world, He turned back toward Earth carrying something heavy inside Him that had no shape but felt like vengeance.
He followed the scent of humans until He found a village.
It was built around a temple devoted to Hera, queen of the Olympians and wife of Zeus.
The moment He arrived, He was seen.
Voices rose. Some shouted in fear, others in recognition. A few already knew what stood before them and fell to their knees, worshipping Him as a god without hesitation.
But worship did not soften Him.
Something in Him had already broken.
He raised His hand.
The air changed.
The villagers collapsed into dust as if their bodies had forgotten how to remain together.
Death stood behind the pillars of the temple, silent as always, watching like a patient shadow.
Pan felt Him there but did not turn.
He did not care.
What mattered more was what remained.
Two men were still standing.
Unmoved. Watching Him with a calm that did not belong in fear.
They did not run. They did not kneel.
Instead, they studied Him as if He was the one being judged.
Curious, Pan approached their silence.
They spoke first.
Not with fear, but with request.
They asked for power. For strength. For something that would allow them to rise above the weakness of others.
Pan saw their hearts clearly.
Not pure. Not innocent.
Distorted in a way He recognized too well.
But He did not refuse them.
He reached out and took one of the men.
In His hand, flesh did not resist. It changed.
Pan shaped him into a weapon, refining bone and will into something sharp and final.
A sword that carried intent as much as edge.
He placed it into the hands of the other man.
Then He touched him again.
A blessing followed.
Strength beyond measure. Life that would not fade easily. A force that would not break under human limits.
And then He turned away and left.
Behind Him, the man held the sword and felt what he had become.
Over time, he used it.
Not once in balance, but many times without restraint.
What began as power became history filled with ruin.
War followed him like a shadow that never learned to leave.
Death spread through generations in his path.
And Pan did not stop it.
The gods eventually spoke of it.
They asked Him to take back what He had given, to correct what had grown from it.
But Pan refused.
What is given is not taken back, He said.
And so the world carried the weight of that decision.