Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series.
All fools, liars and heroes were the same. They deluded themselves and the world, saw what they wanted to see and showed to the world only what they let slip from their hidden selves, either on purpose or by accident. Luke was just one among the many souls he had helped on their futile quest for self destruction. Futile, because as he knew all too well, escaping the world was impossible.
Kronos knew because he had tried. His immortal self had burned with more emotions than the human mind was capable of comprehending during his imprisonment in Tartarus. Rage, fear, sorrow, despair mingled with the joy and ecstasy he tried so hard to suppress. He knew that Tartarus would suck those scanty positives away from him. He tried hard to shield his memories, to not feel. He knew that he would be incapable of controlling any brain save the weakest mortal's until he had controlled himself. But before control, comes violence.
Kronos raged against the injustice of the world which he no longer ruled, against the bitter irony that had led his son to defeat him in a manner strikingly similar to the one he had used against his own father, against the depths to which he had sunk. Finally, after a few minutes or a few centuries (he no longer knew or cared, for what was time to someone who would forever be its master?), he calmed. The lord of the Underworld, whom the other gods had chosen as his watcher, did not notice this. He was too busy squabbling with his siblings, too busy being enchanted by a pretty goddess with a spring in her step, too busy to bother with an entity he believed defeated.
Kronos did not waste time sneering. He had work to do. His first task was to check his own deterioration. A few seconds or millennia ago, the necessity of such a task would have made him furious. Now it made him feel darkly amused. After he had regained control over his self, he began to practice the art of influence once again. He influenced the typhoons of Tartarus into submission and so felt himself ready for higher creatures.
Kronos' first attempt was a success. A Shade who wandered too close to Tartarus lost his mind. This might have drawn the gods' attention, had the Shade not lost his body as well.
Kronos moved on to bigger and bigger prey, each trial a success. Finally, he decided to control a half-blood and use him to avenge his humiliation. The plan failed. His chains were tightened and additional guards posted. His son held his scythe once again and tried to divide him further. In this, at least, he failed, because even he could not quite face up to his formidable father in direct combat. He put it off saying, "I'll do it tomorrow." He truly wished his wife could have seen her precious son just then.
Kronos decided to affect weakness. He was a master of deception and knew all too well how all creatures succeeded in making themselves blind. So he waited and his patience was richly rewarded as his sons and daughter blindfolded themselves.
Kronos sensed a discontent. It grew, not just in any specific location but in all the parts of the world. Again and again, he sensed the discontent rise to face the gods, again and again, he saw it fail. The discontent was not weak but it was not powerful either. It needed a channel, a guide, someone to lead it. It needed a king. It would receive a pawn.
Kronos selected a son of Hermes. It was an odd decision, since the daughter of Zeus he walked with would have made a far more powerful tool. But the son of Hermes possessed a cunning and recklessness that the other lacked. He was at once clever and irrational, ruthless and sentimental; he would not be easy to control but he had what the Titan Lord needed most: an instinct for control. He knew how to charm people, how to make them do exactly what he wanted. It was an ability that he shared and therefore appreciated. But Luke Castellan had an independent streak that made the manipulator pause.
Kronos achieved all that he had set out to do using Luke Castellan's body. Just as he was about to discard it, he noticed a blonde girl (Annabelle?) hurling herself at him. He would have reduced her to cinders had Luke not interrupted. The boy's almost asleep conscience awoke at the sight of the girl.
Kronos sensed the danger and so quickly left the body, just in time to witness the boy stab himself. With a gleeful expression he turned to survey the faces of the creatures who stared at his true form, wide-eyed. A moment and an hour later, they were dust.
Part II: Time slips back and forward at once, as Kronos' rule is challenged once again.