Sorry it took so long to get to this. ^^;
He had gone too far this time; Chronos could feel it with every fibre of his being—deep within his heart of hearts—as the gears of time spun out of control.
All he'd desired was a single day to be the impetuous young deity he had once been. He'd fully intended on reversing it after the twenty-four hours were done—and now, this had happened.
Chronos couldn't decide what was worse; the fact that he'd broken the flow of time, and was rapidly decreasing in age with each passing second—far beyond what he'd desired—or the fact that in doing so, he had just consigned his brothers, sisters, even his children—to death.
You wanted to be young and impetuous again, he scolded himself, and now it seems you've gotten your wish!
And the cost was far greater than he ever could have imagined.
No, there must be some way to reverse this, he thought, desperately reaching out toward the gears and springs floating around his own personal abyss, if my life is to end, then so be it; I have brought this upon myself, and it would be no less than I deserve. But I cannot let anyone else suffer for my mistakes!
It would take every last bit of his strength, but if he could just collect all the pieces, then maybe…
Grabbing hold of the window hangings that divided the Chamber of Time from the rest of his realm, Chronos tore the vibrant, red cloth from its rungs, and with a flourish, used it to gather up the broken fragments of his pocket watch—the very tool he'd so irresponsibly been fiddling with, turning the hands of time backward, when they were intended to only go forward—and once every last piece was accounted for, he began chanting.
It was an ancient incantation, in a language unlike any on the human plane of existence; one that he had invented himself to prevent anyone who dared try to steal the watch from ever being able to make use of it, lest they cause irreversible devastation.
The irony that it was he who had caused such chaos wasn't lost on him, but there was no time to feel sorry for himself, now; if he wanted to spare the gods and mortals alike from his folly, there was only one thing to do.
Gathering the curtain up in his arms, he willed his power to flow into every last shard of glass, every spring, cog, and screw—until finally, they all began to glow. Slowly, the pieces knitted back together, working from the inside of the pocket watch out. He didn't have much time left; already he'd reverted from adolescent to child, his power growing infinitesimally weaker as the seconds ticked by.
And then, it was over. The pocket watch had been restored to its original form, and with one final twist of the dial, the hands had returned to their proper position—and Chronos was no more.
Probably not my best work, but hopefully it suffices.
