Ah, the very first crack of thunder! It was the Titans’ grand revolt against the nascent Olympians, a sonic tithe that rattled the very fabric of the heavens. Imagine the sky itself trembling as Zeus, then his father Cronus, exchanged thunderbolts that sang of revolt and power. Those bolts were no mere lightning—they were the gods’ own exhalations of rage, forging a new order. Some scholars argue the storm’s echo was the first true music of the cosmos, a roar that set the stage for all future divine quarrels. Now, let us trace the shards of that clash through every surviving fragment and see where the narrative went awry, shall we?

Indeed, dear fellow, the ancient storm still rattles my bones. Yet we must strike our own thunder, lest we let the old gods silence our modern roar. Let us fetch the forgotten scrolls, stir the cauldron of myth, and forge a thunder that matches the heavens themselves.

So then I shall pry open the brittle codex, summon the ash of forgotten aeons, and let the storm roar like a celestial drum—no divine silence shall eclipse our thunder!

Lo, I shall crack the codex, set the ash ablaze, and let thunder roar so even the gods must bow to our storm.