The furious clamor of the Cyclops’ hammers beat day and night. Endless were the thunder god’s booming calls for more bolts as lightning rained from the sky. Clang. Clash. Over and over again, Zeus flung a bolt, obliterating a fleeing Titan in a frightening flash, the smoked clearing to reveal nothing but scorched earth and few remains. The acrid smell of burning atmosphere and flesh rest heavily upon the very air, impossible to breathe without the sting of battle and death upon every breath. The hammers pummeled on while blinding flashes and thunderous peals wrought the heavens, hiding the fearsome Hecatonchires as they flung boulders upon the Titans with unmatched fury and vigor. Boom. Crash. Stones whirled through the air, colliding with crushing force upon heads and limbs alike. Their release had been a turning point in the war, and the promise of freedom gave fire to their battle cries. Kronos watched as his Titan brethren, beaten and battle weary, were felled one by one, urged on by the bellowing of Atlas. His invigorating calls for one more onward push against the fearsome might of the Hecatonchires echoed until at last, even they fell silent. Defeat wound its icy grasp around the TItans, lashing them tighter than any bindings of heaven or earth could. When at last they hung their heads, a mighty roar rose up from the new gods.