Chapter Text
Kratos...
Once the fearsome Ghost of Sparta, now stood amidst the serene landscape, his towering figure a stark contrast to the tranquil surroundings.
The wind whispered through the trees, their branches swaying gently as if in reverence to the man who once brought gods to their knees. His reputation as the harbinger of death had preceded him, whispers of his past deeds echoing through the annals of time.
To many, he was not just a man but a monstrous force—a relentless avatar of vengeance, destruction, and wrath.
Yet here, in this new land, Kratos appeared weathered by the passage of years.
The weight of countless battles and untold sorrows was etched into every line of his face. His once fiery gaze, which had struck fear into gods and men alike, was now tempered, replaced by the somber hues of experience. The deep creases around his eyes hinted at the wisdom gained from living through more than one lifetime of hardship.
His beard, once a shadow, had thickened into a cascade of gray, its strands bearing the ashes of those he had loved and lost. The red tattoo marking his flesh—a tribute to his dear brother, Deimos—had dulled with time, its once vibrant hue now a faded reminder of a life long past. The scar across his abdomen, a testament to his defiance against the gods, remained as a solemn reminder of the sacrifices he had made, each one shaping the course of his destiny.
His attire, a mix of fur-lined leather and armor, was suited for the harsh Norse terrain. The once-proud chains that had bound him to his past sins were hidden beneath his garb, though the memory of them still lingered, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. As an older man, Kratos had traded the fury of war for the quietude of this land, yet no amount of time or distance could truly erase the ghost of his past.
Kratos stood before a towering tree, its trunk marred by the imprint of a golden handprint—a poignant reminder of a soul he had once cherished beyond measure. Faye, his beloved wife, had left her mark on this world, and on him, in ways that even the gods could not erase. With a heavy breath, Kratos raised the Leviathan Axe, her gift to him, its blade gleaming in the soft light.
Kneeling before the sacred tree, he wielded the axe with a fervor born from the deepest recesses of his heart.
Each swing was not just a physical act but a spiritual release, a way to unburden himself of the anguish, the fury, and the regret that clung to him like a shroud. Every strike echoed through the forest like a thunderclap, as if the land itself was responding to his turmoil.
"Aaaaghhh!" Kratos roared, his voice hoarse with emotion, raw and unfiltered. His cry was primal, a man who had faced gods, monsters, and himself—and yet still carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders.
With one final, forceful strike, the tree fell. Kratos stood motionless for a moment, his breath labored, his body still tense from the exertion. He sheathed the Leviathan Axe across his back, its weight familiar, yet insignificant compared to the burdens he bore within.
As he reached down to lift the fallen timber, a bandage around his forearm began to unravel, revealing the scars beneath. They were old wounds, reminders of battles fought in rage and desperation, the kind that left marks not only on the body but on the soul. Kratos paused, staring at the exposed flesh for a moment, lost in thought. The memories of his past clawed at his mind—the faces of those he had slain, the cries of those he could not save. His grip tightened as he fought to silence the voices that haunted him.
Was redemption ever truly possible for a man like him? Could he ever be free from the shadows of his own making?
Kratos inhaled deeply and rewrapped the bandage, covering the physical scars as best he could. But the emotional ones? Those would remain, no matter how tightly he tried to conceal them. He was a monster. That truth would never leave him, no matter how much he sought peace.
Before he could sink further into his turmoil, a voice called out, soft yet distinct in the stillness.
"I found some." A young voice said.
Kratos turned swiftly, his senses immediately sharpening. There, standing among the trees, was Atreus, his son. The boy was a reflection of his mother, with red hair and the sharp blue eyes like his mother.
Though young, Atreus carried himself with a maturity that belied his years. His tunic, worn yet sturdy, was adorned with the wolf fur pelt his mother had made for him, with norse runes tracing his arms.
Atreus gazed at the fallen tree, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and curiosity. To him, his father was not the harbinger of destruction, not the Ghost of Sparta, but simply his father—the man who could fell a tree with a single blow, yet was still a mystery in so many ways.
"Get on the boat, boy," Kratos said, his voice gruff but not unkind. Beneath the roughness was a tenderness he dared not express fully.
Atreus nodded, casting one last glance at his father before heading toward the riverbank.
Kratos watched him go, his heart heavy with emotions he couldn't put into words. His son—his future—was the only thing that gave him hope. But how could he guide him when his own path was so fraught with shadows?
With a heavy sigh, Kratos followed, lifting the tree with ease and securing it to the boat. As they floated down the river, the silence between them was peaceful, but beneath it lingered unspoken questions and untold stories.
"Father?" Atreus's voice broke the quiet, soft yet insistent.
Kratos grunted in acknowledgment, his mind still heavy with the weight of his past.
"The forest... it feels different," Atreus observed, his eyes scanning the landscape as if searching for something just out of reach.
"Everything is different, boy," Kratos replied, his voice carrying the weight of truths he wished he could shield his son from. "Do not dwell on it."
"Yes, sir." Atreus's voice was barely a whisper, carried away by the breeze as they continued their journey down the river, toward an uncertain future.
The river’s gentle murmur blended with the rustling of the surrounding woods, creating a serene lull in the air. Atreus gazed into the water’s shimmering surface, his thoughts drifting like the currents beneath the boat. He could feel the weight of unspoken words between him and Kratos, but there was a comfort in the silence.
"Do you think the others are done with the rest of the stuff?" Atreus broke the quiet, his voice barely louder than the wind. His question lingered, hinting at more than just simple curiosity.
Kratos grunted thoughtfully, his gaze unwavering from the horizon ahead. "Knowing your aunt and uncle very well..." He hesitated, the corners of his lips twitching with doubt. "Probably."
The unspoken tension between them dissolved into the air once more, leaving behind only the river’s soft whispers and the rhythmic sound of the oars cutting through the water.
---
Elsewhere in the Wildwoods
The Wildwoods pulsed with life, a vivid symphony of nature's wonders. Towering trees stretched their limbs toward the sky, while streams wound their way through the underbrush, glittering beneath the dappled sunlight. Thornnecks, their massive frames blending with the ancient trees, ambled through the shadows, while the distant roars of Polarjaws echoed like thunder through the wilderness.
But amidst a meadow bursting with vibrant flowers, a lone figure moved gracefully—an Drekinian, half-human, half-dragon creature.
She was a rare sight, even in these enchanted woods. Her fiery blue hide shimmered like the last embers of a dying flame, crisscrossed with muted green stripes that hugged her frame. Her tail, lined with venomous spikes, swayed rhythmically behind her as she knelt to gather flowers, her claws gently plucking the delicate petals.
Her wings folded elegantly against her back, their leathery texture rustling slightly in the breeze. Two long, thin horns jutted from her head, framing her aqua hair that cascaded like a waterfall down her shoulders. Her orange eyes, sharp and perceptive, scanned the forest with quiet alertness.
Yet, in this moment of peace, Beta—the Inferno-Wing—was unaware that she wasn’t alone.
"Hehehe."
The giggle, soft and mischievous, floated through the air, pulling Beta’s attention away from the flowers. She paused, her keen senses immediately picking up the familiar tone. With a knowing smile, she glanced toward the tall grasses swaying just beyond her.
"I wonder, where did that little cub go?" Beta called out in a playful tone, her voice carrying through the meadow like a gentle breeze. She slowly rose to her full height, her wings stretching momentarily before folding back. "Perhaps... he’s here!"
With a graceful leap, Beta darted into the tall grasses, her sharp senses attuned to the faintest of movements. Her bright eyes scanned the foliage, but despite her keen sight, there was no trace of the source of the laughter.
"Huh?" Beta’s brow furrowed in confusion as she stood still, listening. The forest around her was silent, the only sound the wind rustling through the leaves.
Suddenly, she felt a weight crash onto her back, tiny arms wrapping around her shoulders as a high-pitched voice shouted in triumph.
"Gotcha!"
Beta let out a theatrical gasp of surprise, stumbling forward dramatically as if the weight were far greater than it was. "Oh no! I've been caught by the amazing and powerful Bendy!" she cried, her voice dripping with mock defeat. "Oh please, show mercy, mighty dragon!"
Bendy, a mischievous grin plastered across his face, sat proudly atop his mother's shoulders. His small but confident voice rang out, "Only if you admit that I’m the smartest, most handsome, most cunning, and most skilled dragon in the world!"
Beta chuckled, her laughter a warm sound that echoed through the clearing. "Alright, alright. *You*, Bendy, are the smartest, most handsome, most cunning, and most skilled of all the dragons in the world," she conceded with an indulgent smile.
Sliding down from Beta’s back, Bendy landed lightly on the soft grass, a wide grin lighting up his face. He was a creature unlike any other, with skin darker than his siblings’, a striking contrast to his white face framed by two crescent-shaped horns. His clothes—dark purple and yellow—mirrored his bold personality, and his long tail swished playfully behind him, the arrow-shaped tip brushing the ground.
As Beta gazed at her son, her heart swelled with love. Bendy, though different in appearance from his family, had always been a source of joy and pride. His energy and curiosity were boundless, and even his playful arrogance brought a smile to her face.
But then, as Beta straightened up, she noticed the sudden shift in her son’s demeanor. Bendy’s face, once filled with glee, now darkened with melancholy as he stared at the field of flowers before them.
"Hey," Beta said softly, kneeling beside him. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, her eyes filled with concern. "What's with the long face?"
Bendy sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "It’s just... Aunt Faye loved this place. She brought me here once. It was so peaceful. I miss her." His voice trembled slightly, the weight of his loss heavy in his words.
Beta's heart clenched at the mention of Faye—Atreus's mother, her dearest friend, and the light of their lives. The loss of Faye had left a void in all their hearts, and it pained Beta to see her son carry that burden.
"I miss her too," Beta whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "But we’ll always have our memories of her, Bendy and in a way she’s still with us."
She pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, her heart aching for the sorrow he bore. With the flowers now gathered, Beta rose and extended her hand to her son. "Come on, let’s head back. Your father and the others are probably waiting for us."
Bendy nodded, slipping his hand into hers. As they walked, their bond provided the comfort words could not.
"I bet Bucky’s stuck in a hole again, and Lyris is yelling at him to pull his head out!" Bendy said with a grin, the mental image causing a burst of laughter to escape from both of them.
"Hehe, sounds about right!" Beta agreed, her laughter as bright as the sunlight filtering through the trees.
As the cabin came into view, Bendy's thoughts drifted to Atreus, his best friend. "Do you think Atreus will be okay?" he asked, his voice soft with worry.
Beta’s smile faltered slightly. She didn’t have an easy answer. "I hope so," she said gently. "He’s strong, but... losing a mother is hard, especially for a kid at his age." She squeezed Bendy's hand, the weight of her own sorrow blending with his.
They walked in silence for a moment, the forest around them alive with the hum of life. But within them, a quiet sadness lingered, a reminder of the loved ones lost but never forgotten.
In the cabin
The cabin hummed with warmth, the rich scent of wood mingling with the crisp air that drifted in from the surrounding forest. Omega, standing tall and imposing, wiped his brow as he just finished cutting down one of the last trees for the upcoming ceremony, a testament to his strength and resilience.
His bright red hide gleamed in the daylight, black markings adding contrast to his robust frame. The spikes adorning his chin formed a makeshift goatee, giving him a fierce yet regal appearance.
His yellow fiery hair streaked with orange glowed in the fading light, and his long, thick tail, ending in a heavy spiked club, twitched as he stood up straight, satisfied with his progress. The prosthetic right arm and left leg gleamed with a metallic sheen, reminders of battles fought long ago.
As he prepared to resume his work, Omega heard a familiar voice call from inside the cabin.
“Daddy! Can you help here?” Lyris’s sharp tone cut through the sounds of the evening.
Omega turned to see his daughter, a golden cub, wearing a magenta-red blouse and grey-black pants, struggling with something—or rather, someone.
His azure eyes softened as he saw her pulling on her brother Bucky’s tail, trying to free him from the ground where his head had somehow become lodged.
“How did you get stuck this time?” Omega asked, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement.
His gaze swept over the scene—Bucky, with his turquoise scales and blue markings, clad only in green pants and dark-teal jacket, was quite the sight, his short red hair sticking out in tufts as he wriggled helplessly and flapping his wings rapidly.
His long, multi-colored tail, usually so useful for all kinds of mischief, was now looped around his sister's arm as she used it to gain leverage.
“It’s an actually funny story... I saw a bug, then I thought I saw an apple, and, well… one thing led to another…” Bucky said, his voice muffled by the dirt, mumbled,
Omega let out a long sigh, his lips quirking into a smile. “Of course, you did. All right, hold still, I’ve got you.”
With a grunt of effort, Omega carefully grasped Bucky’s torso and began to pull. His son yelped and squirmed, his tail flicking in protest as the ground slowly gave way.
After a few moments of tugging, Bucky was finally yanked free with a pop, stumbling to his feet.
“Thanks, Dad!” Bucky said, shaking his head and brushing dirt from his scales. His orange and blue eyes shone with gratitude, though his mischievous grin hinted at future shenanigans.
Lyris, her golden hide gleaming in the light, crossed her arms and huffed. “Maybe this will teach you not to do dumb stuff next time.”
“Oh yeah?” Bucky shot back, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe I’ll just punch you in the face!”
Lyris, ever the firebrand, immediately took a defensive stance. “Bring it on, bug-brain!”
Before the two could escalate further, Omega intervened, stepping between his children with a raised hand. “That’s enough, both of you,” he said firmly. “Save your energy for another time.”
Reluctantly, Lyris and Bucky backed down, though the tension between them still simmered beneath the surface.
Omega shook his head, chuckling to himself as he turned to see Beta and Bendy approaching from the forest.
Beta’s fiery blue hide shimmered as she moved gracefully toward the cabin, her long aqua hair flowing behind her. At her side, Bendy skipped happily, his purple eyes alight with excitement as he spotted his siblings. Omega’s heart swelled with pride at the sight of his family, reunited and whole once again.
“Everything coming along?” Beta asked, her eyes soft as they met her husband’s. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.
Omega smiled as he returned the kiss. “Almost done. Just one more tree and we’ll be ready for the ceremony.”
Their tender moment was quickly interrupted by their children’s exaggerated reactions.
“Eww!” Bucky groaned, sticking out his long purple tongue in mock disgust.
“Can’t you two do that somewhere else?” Lyris added, her nose wrinkling in revulsion.
Omega chuckled and waved them off. “If you don’t like it, don’t look.”
The cabin was filled with laughter, a light-heartedness that momentarily lifted the weight of their upcoming responsibilities. However, their joy was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from the forest’s edge.
Atreus and Kratos emerged from the trees, carrying the final log needed for the ceremony. Atreus’s tired but smiling face lit up as he spotted Bendy, who dashed forward to greet him.
“Atreus!” Bendy called, his voice full of joy.
Atreus grinned and raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, Bendy. Good to see you.”
Bendy, always full of energy, circled his friend. “So? How did it go?”
Atreus shrugged, his smile fading slightly. “It went well. Just… a lot to think about.”
Bendy’s exuberance dimmed, sensing the weight of his friend’s mood. He nodded in understanding and fell into step beside him as they made their way toward the cabin.
Omega approached Kratos, clapping a hand on his old friend’s shoulder. “Is this the last one?” he asked, gesturing to the tree they carried.
Kratos nodded, his expression somber. “Yes.”
As they reached the cabin, the soft crunch of the snow underfoot was the only sound that accompanied them. The silence between Atreus and Bendy was laden with unspoken emotion. Atreus's hand hovered over the door handle, his heart racing as uncertainty clouded his mind. Bendy, sensing the turmoil in his friend, placed a comforting hand on Atreus’s shoulder.
The grip was firm yet gentle, a silent reassurance that said more than words ever could: 'You're not alone in this.'
Summoning every ounce of courage, Atreus exhaled slowly before pushing the door open. The creak of the wood echoed in the stillness of the cabin. As the door swung open, the warm interior did little to ease the chill in his soul. His mother, Faye, lay before him, draped in fabrics that had once adorned her with vibrancy, now acting as her final shroud. Around her rested keepsakes she had cherished—tokens of a life lived with strength, wisdom, and love.
Atreus's hand trembled as he lit the first candle, its flickering flame casting long shadows across his face, accentuating the sorrow etched in his young features. His voice, raw and choked with grief, broke the silence.
"Lo there do I see my mother, Lo there do I see my father, Lo there do I see my friends and family, Lo there do they call me," he whispered, the ancient words carrying the weight of generations.
As he scattered the flowers over her, the scent of them mingled with the smoky air, each petal falling like a piece of his heart. With every candle lit, the room grew warmer, but for Atreus, the weight of his grief only deepened. Memories surged forth, unbidden—the way she had smiled at him, the strength in her voice when she had taught him about the world, and the quiet moments of peace they'd shared.
He knelt beside her, resting his head near hers as if to draw some final comfort from her presence. Tears slipped from his eyes, but he made no move to wipe them away. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the pain wash over him in waves. Sensing the overwhelming sorrow, Bendy crouched beside him, his hand coming to rest on Atreus’s shoulder. It was a wordless vow of solidarity, a promise that he would stand by his friend through this storm of grief.
The solemn atmosphere in the cabin was disrupted only by a shifting shadow. A figure loomed at the doorway—Kratos, Atreus’s father. The imposing presence of the god-slayer filled the room, but instead of his usual stoic composure, there was a profound sadness etched into his face. His gaze softened as he looked upon his son and the woman who had been his anchor in a turbulent life.
Atreus quickly wiped away his tears, though he couldn’t fully mask his grief. His voice, though soft, carried an unspoken plea as he addressed his father.
"She's ready," he whispered, looking up at Kratos with tear-filled eyes.
Kratos’s steps were slow and deliberate as he approached his wife. Every movement was filled with reverence, as if the very air around her demanded respect. He gazed down at Faye, his heart heavy with the memories they had shared—her fierce spirit, her unwavering guidance, and her love that had transcended even the darkest times. Gently, he placed his large hands under her, lifting her as if she were weightless, her body resting in his arms like a precious relic.
"Find your own path... You are free," Kratos murmured, his deep voice trembling with emotion. It was both a farewell and a blessing, words that released her from her earthly tether.
The gathered group watched in silence as Kratos carried Faye toward the pyre, the weight of her loss palpable in every step. Omega, Beta, and their children stood alongside the others, their gazes somber, their hearts heavy. Despite their grief, they knew that this was not just a farewell to a friend, but a passing of a great spirit into the beyond.
As the flames licked at the wood, Kratos laid Faye’s body upon the pyre with deliberate care. The air grew thick with tension as he withdrew his axe, using its magic to summon a single spark. It was all that was needed—the fire ignited, consuming the pyre in a blaze that sent sparks spiraling into the cold sky.
The group stood still, their faces illuminated by the growing flames. The crackle of the fire was the only sound, punctuating the silence with its quiet roar. Atreus stared at the flames, his heart heavy with the finality of it all, but then his eyes caught something unusual—a glint of metal amidst the fire.
His mother’s knife.
Before he could think, his instincts took over. He lunged forward, reaching for it. The heat from the flames was unbearable, and as soon as his hand made contact with the blade, he recoiled in pain, the searing burn etching itself into his palm.
"Atreus!" Bendy and the others exclaimed, rushing toward him.
Kratos, ever watchful, was already beside his son.
"Sorry..." Atreus murmured, his voice tinged with remorse.
Without a word, he knelt, examining the burn with the practiced care of a warrior used to tending wounds. His face remained expressionless, but his actions were filled with a father's concern. From the snow surrounding the pyre, he gathered a small pack and applied it to Atreus’s burn, then wrapped his hand in cloth with deft precision.
"This knife… It was hers. Now it's yours," Kratos said, his deep voice resonating with solemnity.
Atreus looked at the knife, now handed to him with a reverence that made his heart ache. The blade was more than just a tool; it was a piece of his mother, a reminder of her teachings, her strength, and her love. He clutched it tightly, a mixture of grief and pride filling his chest.
Kratos rose to his feet, his eyes scanning the young faces around him—the dragons, Bendy, and his own son. His voice, though low, carried an undeniable authority as he spoke.
"She taught you and the cubs how to hunt?"
Atreus looked up, blinking away the tears. "What she knew," he replied, uncertainty lacing his voice.
"Show me," Kratos demanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Atreus hesitated, the weight of his father’s expectations settling upon him. "Now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes," Kratos affirmed, his gaze steady and unyielding.
With nothing more to say, Atreus turned towards the cabin, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts about what awaited them. The cold air bit at his face, but it did little to cool the feverish anticipation that churned within him. Every step felt heavier, as if the weight of the impending hunt bore down on him with a pressure he hadn't anticipated.
Beside him, Bendy walked with his usual light step, though his eyes gleamed with curiosity. He tilted his head, glancing up at the towering trees surrounding them, but his focus quickly shifted to the excitement of the hunt.
"Can we go too?" Bendy's voice broke through the silence, his enthusiasm bubbling up as he turned his wide, eager eyes toward Atreus and the adults. There was a spark in his gaze—an electric thrill that came with the promise of adventure.
Omega, standing nearby with arms crossed, narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Always the cautious parent, he turned to Kratos for guidance, his silent inquiry clear.
Kratos, who had been watching his son carefully, gave a curt nod of assent.
It was a small gesture, but it carried the weight of authority, sealing the decision.
"Okay," Omega said with a measured tone, turning back to Bendy. "But let your mother and I get our weapons first."
The way Omega spoke carried a tone of responsibility, a reminder that the hunt was more than just a game. There was a solemnity in the preparation, a respect for what they were about to do.
As Omega moved toward the weapons resting nearby, Bendy's gaze followed. His eyes widened slightly as he watched his father retrieve a gleaming Naginata—a long, curved blade that glinted with deadly precision. It was a weapon gifted by Faye, a reminder of her deep bond with the family and her trust in their skill. Beside it lay a spear for Beta, just as formidable, with intricate carvings etched into the shaft. Bendy marveled at the craftsmanship, knowing that each weapon held the weight of their shared history.
Meanwhile, Atreus emerged from the cabin, his expression resolute as he carried his bow. The polished wood of the bow seemed to glow in the pale light, its craftsmanship unmistakable. His mother had made it herself, carving it from the yew tree that grew near their home, each curve designed with care. Beside the bow hung a quiver filled with arrows—each one fletched with precision, a testament to Faye's love and dedication.
Atreus ran a hand along the length of the bow, feeling the smooth grain under his fingers. It was more than just a weapon—it was a piece of his mother, a part of her that would always be with him on the hunt.
"What are we hunting?" Atreus asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he adjusted the quiver on his back. The question hung in the air, his mind already racing with possibilities.
Kratos, standing tall and imposing, turned to face his son.
His eyes, hardened by years of battle and loss, held a quiet strength as he spoke.
"You are hunting deer," he said, his voice deep and commanding. The simplicity of the task belied the importance of the lesson he intended to impart. Kratos’s tone left no room for argument—this was the first step in something much larger.
Atreus nodded but couldn't help pressing further. "Where?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he sought more clarity.
Kratos's gaze never wavered, his stoic demeanor as unyielding as ever. "In the direction of the deer," he instructed, his words final.
"...Okay."
There was a moment of stillness as the gravity of the hunt settled over them all. Atreus stood straighter, his fingers tightening around his bow. Bendy, standing beside him, felt the air shift as well. This was no longer just a simple outing—it was a test of skill, patience, and discipline.
As they leaved the safety of the cabin, the group ventured deeper into the forest, the trees towered above them, their ancient branches casting long, shifting shadows across the snow-covered ground. The cold, crisp air filled their lungs, every breath a visible puff in the stillness.
Atreus walked slightly ahead of the group, his youthful face set in a determined expression, though uncertainty flickered behind his eyes. Beside him, the young dragons moved with a silent grace, their eyes glowing faintly as they scanned their surroundings.
"Father... Why are we doing this now?" Atreus asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice carried a mix of curiosity and hesitation, his brow furrowing in thought as he glanced back toward his father. The question had been nagging at him since they'd set off.
Kratos, ever the stoic figure, kept his gaze fixed on the path ahead. His massive frame cut a formidable silhouette against the backdrop of the forest.
His reply came in a low, measured tone, "I need to know if you and the cubs are ready for the journey ahead."
Atreus blinked at the cryptic response, his mind racing to piece together what his father meant. "And then we go to the mountain?" he pressed, hoping for more clarity.
Kratos’s gaze remained forward, his expression unreadable as always. "That depends on you. Hunt," he said, the word hanging in the cold air like a challenge, leaving Atreus with more questions than answers.
Despite the enigmatic reply, Atreus shook off his uncertainty and refocused on the task at hand.
He led the group further into the forest, his senses sharpened, eyes scanning the ground and the trees for any sign of their prey. The forest seemed to thrum with life, the rustle of leaves, the distant calls of birds, and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. It was all part of the landscape, and yet, Atreus felt something more—something watching.
Kneeling down in the snow, Atreus’s sharp eyes caught sight of a set of tracks, faint but visible.
"Footprints, but not deer's," he murmured, running his fingers lightly over the indentations. "I’ll look for more." He stood, glancing around the clearing, trying to piece together the direction of the trail.
Meanwhile, Kratos had stopped several paces behind him, his keen senses attuned to something else entirely.
His eyes flicked toward a different set of tracks, heavier and more distinct. "Boy. You missed," Kratos called out in his deep, resonant voice, drawing Atreus's attention.
Atreus hurried over, studying the tracks with a practiced eye. He crouched beside his father, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Ah... almost, but not deer," Atreus muttered, noting the size and shape of the prints. "See? They are very wide. Mountain goat."
Kratos gave a curt nod, his approval conveyed without words. "Good. Keep looking."
Atreus smiled slightly, feeling a small swell of pride at his father's recognition.
With renewed focus, he beckoned the young dragons to follow as they ventured deeper into the forest, their steps cautious but determined. Snow crunched softly beneath their boots, and the distant sound of running water hinted at a nearby stream.
As they moved forward, Atreus’s sharp eyes caught something else—an ancient, crumbling staircase half-buried beneath snow and moss. The weathered stone steps bore signs of use, their surfaces worn smooth by countless feet over the years. But what drew his attention most were the faint, rounded footprints imprinted in the snow, trailing up the steps.
"More footprints?" Kratos asked, his deep voice rumbling like the distant thunder.
Atreus knelt once more, examining the prints closely. "Yeah... but they’re rounder," he said, excitement threading through his voice. "Could be from a large deer." His heart quickened at the thought—they were getting closer.
Omega, watching from nearby, couldn't help but smile faintly, impressed by Atreus’s growing skill.
"I have to admit, Atreus has become much better at tracking since last time," he remarked to Kratos, his voice tinged with pride.
Kratos gave a subtle nod, his expression softening ever so slightly. "His mother taught him well," he replied, his gruff tone betraying a hint of warmth. Faye's lessons had clearly stayed with Atreus, guiding him even in her absence.
The group pressed onward, the forest growing denser around them. Tall, gnarled trees twisted overhead, their branches creating a canopy that blocked out much of the light. The air felt heavier here, the quiet more profound.
Eventually, they came to a fork in the path, the trail splitting into two distinct directions.
"Wow," Bendy exclaimed, his voice breaking the silence. His wide eyes were locked on the gaping abyss that stretched before them, where a broken bridge once spanned the chasm. The drop was dizzying, the sheer cliffs on either side slick with ice and snow.
"What do we do now?" Atreus asked, his brow furrowing as he studied the broken bridge.
Without a word, Kratos stepped forward. His powerful legs coiled for a moment before he launched himself effortlessly across the chasm, landing on the opposite side with a soft thud. He stood there, his posture calm, as if such a feat were second nature to him.
"This way," Kratos commanded, his voice carrying across the gap.
Atreus and Bendy exchanged a glance, and then, with a deep breath, they made their way across, following their father’s lead.
Though they navigated the broken bridge with varying degrees of success—Bendy almost slipped once—the group managed to reach the other side without incident.
As soon as they landed, Atreus’s sharp eyes darted to the ground. His heart skipped a beat when he saw them—fresh deer tracks, pressed into the snow like a trail of breadcrumbs. He could almost hear the rhythmic thump of his pulse in his ears.
"Look! Deer tracks. They are new," Atreus exclaimed, his excitement barely contained. His fingers itched to draw his bow.
Kratos stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the area ahead. "Very well," he said, his voice calm and measured, but beneath it lay an unspoken challenge—now was the time to prove himself.
As the group moved through the dense forest, the air was thick with the scent of pine and the crunch of snow beneath their boots. The towering trees loomed overhead like silent sentinels, their branches intertwined, casting long shadows on the ground.
Atreus led the way, his youthful curiosity sharp, but the trail of the deer abruptly disappeared, leaving the group at a standstill.
Atreus scratched his head, frustrated. “It just... ends.”
Omega, watching his nephew’s perplexed expression, couldn’t help but smile. "I have an idea. Why don't we let Bendy, Bucky, and Lyris sniff out the trail? Then we can know where the deer might be."
Atreus’s eyes lit up, hope sparking within him. "That’s not a bad idea, Uncle Omega! What do you say, Bendy?"
Bendy, already on all fours, nodded eagerly. “I’m in!” His enthusiasm was infectious as he looked at his siblings, who quickly joined him, their snouts low to the ground.
The three young dragons moved with synchronized grace, their nostrils flaring as they inhaled the myriad scents the forest had to offer.
After a few moments of intense sniffing, Bendy’s tail twitched in excitement.
“We picked up the trail!” Bendy exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement.
Kratos, standing tall with his broad arms crossed, nodded in approval. “Then show it,” he said, his voice as solid and unyielding as the mountains.
The young dragons bounded forward, leading the group deeper into the heart of the forest. The air grew colder, and the towering trees began to thin, revealing a clearing ahead. Suddenly, from behind a cluster of frozen bushes, a majestic sight emerged—a giant white deer with luminous blue antlers stood before them, its eyes glowing like stars in the fading light.
Atreus gasped, startled by the deer's sudden appearance. His heart raced with excitement as he quickly pointed. "Found it!"
Before he could think, the deer bolted, its elegant legs leaping over the snowy underbrush with incredible speed.
Without hesitation, Atreus and the cubs gave chase, their laughter and exhilaration filling the cold air. Snow and dirt kicked up behind them as they dashed through the trees.
Kratos’s stern voice cut through the joyous chase like a knife. “Slow down, boy!” His deep tone was more commanding than ever.
Atreus stumbled to a halt, his breath heavy, the weight of his father’s reprimand settling in his chest. "Sorry..." he muttered, lowering his head, disappointment washing over him.
Kratos approached, his massive form looming beside his son. “You’re hunting deer, not racing,” he said, his eyes hard but protective. There was more behind his words—an unspoken lesson.
Atreus clenched his fists, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling within him. "Yes, father..." he muttered under his breath, his shoulders tense with the weight of his father’s expectations.
The forest grew quieter as they continued on, their pace more cautious. Soon, they came upon an obstacle: a wide, broken bridge spanning a deep ravine. The damage appeared recent, the remnants of wood and stone scattered below.
Lyris, her voice tinged with concern, looked over the edge. "How are we going to cross?"
Kratos’s expression was unreadable, but without a word, he stepped forward, taking in the situation.
“Stand back,” he commanded, drawing his Leviathan Axe from its sheath. With a sharp, controlled throw, the axe flew through the air, shattering the damaged section of the bridge with a deafening crack. The pieces of the bridge fell away, leaving just enough space for them to jump across. As the axe returned to Kratos’s hand, the group marveled at his power.
“Go,” Kratos instructed, his voice firm. The young dragons leaped across first, followed by Atreus, who hesitated only slightly before clearing the gap. They continued through the forest, but the deeper they ventured, the more ominous the surroundings became. Charred trees lined their path, and the earth beneath their feet was scorched black—a reminder of a past catastrophe.
"There!" Atreus suddenly shouted, pointing to a distant clearing where the deer had reappeared, its glowing antlers stark against the gloom.
Kratos immediately raised his hand. "Wait," he commanded.
Atreus, determined to prove himself, ignored the warning and swiftly notched an arrow. He took aim, his breath steady, and let the arrow fly. But he missed. The deer bolted again, vanishing into the shadows of the trees.
Before Atreus could react, Kratos stormed toward him, his face dark with fury. His large hand closed around the bow, yanking it from his son’s grasp. “What are you doing?!” Kratos’s voice thundered through the forest, echoing off the trees. “Now its guard is up! Only fire...!”
but before he could unleash further admonishment, he noticed something in Atreus's eyes—a familiar glimmer of fear mirrored on the faces of the rest of the group.
With a conscious effort, Kratos willed himself to regain control, his breathing slowing as he fought to quell the rising tide of anger within him. For Atreus's sake, he needed to maintain his composure.
“Only fire... when I tell you to.” Kratos instructed, his voice tempered with resolve.
Atreus, ashamed and confused, looked away. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled, his voice small.
Atreus's face contorted with shame and fear. "I'm sorry...'' Atreus stammered an apology, his blue eyes pleading for forgiveness. Yet, the boy remained perplexed by his father's harsh reaction to his mistake.
"Do not be sorry, be better," Kratos responded sternly, his words laden with expectation.
As Atreus reached for his bow, Kratos swiftly knocked it out of his reach, his message clear: he would not return the weapon until his son proved himself capable of following orders.
With a low growl of frustration, Atreus and the cubs reluctantly resumed their pursuit of the deer, while Omega and Beta stepped forward, their faces tight with concern and anger.
Betaa’s voice was sharp as he approached Kratos. “What was that?!” she demanded, her protective instinct for Atreus evident.
Kratos didn’t even look at her. “The boy didn’t listen to me,” he replied tersely, his focus still on Atreus.
“And screaming at him like that will help? For the gods sakes! He's a kid, Kratos, not a soldier!” Omega shot back, his frustration palpable.
Kratos finally turned, his eyes cold. “That’s none of your concern, dragon. Take care of your children, and I’ll take care of mine.”
With that, Kratos turned and walked ahead, leaving Omega and Beta with a mixture of worry and apprehension.
.
As the group pressed forward, they stopped after hearing the eerie screams echoeing ominously through the dense forest, their haunting tones reverberating in the ears of the group as they pressed deeper into the shadows.
Each step forward felt heavier as if the very air around them was thickening with an unseen menace. Suddenly, a grotesque figure emerged from the murky shadows, standing before Atreus and the cubs—a Draugr.
Its ghastly appearance froze them in place. The Draugr’s decaying flesh hung grotesquely from its skeletal frame, its bones bleached by sun and time. The creature's eyes glowed with an unholy fire, flickering with malice. With bony fingers gripping a rusted weapon and a shattered shield, it staggered forward with jerky, unnatural movements, its hollow chest rattling with each breath of death that kept it moving.
Atreus instinctively reached for his bow, his fingers trembling with adrenaline, but a thunderous command from his father halted him.
"NO! YOU ARE NOT READY YET!" Kratos’s voice roared like a storm, cutting through the tension in the air. "Stand back!" his words, laden with authority, left no room for argument.
Behind Atreus, Bendy, Bucky, and Lyris huddled close, their wide eyes locked on the advancing Draugr.
Fear rippled through the young cubs, but they parents, all poised for battle.
Kratos gripped the handle of his Leviathan Axe, the runes along its blade glowing with icy blue light, spreading frost along its edges.
With a practiced motion, the blade transformed into a weapon of pure ice, shimmering dangerously.
Beside him, Omega ignited his naginata, flames dancing like serpents up its length, casting a warm glow in contrast to Kratos’s icy weapon.
Beta, not to be outdone, twirled her spear in her hands, the tip erupting into a fiery brilliance that matched her fierce resolve.
With a sharp, guttural battle cry, Kratos hurled his axe through the air.
The weapon soared in a perfect arc before slamming into the Draugr’s chest, freezing it solid on impact. Ice spread rapidly across the creature's body, halting its advance with a sickening crack. Without hesitation, Kratos lunged forward, shattering the frozen Draugr with one powerful blow, its broken body collapsing into icy fragments.
Before they could catch their breath, six more Draugr staggered out of the shadows, their hollow eyes burning with the same unnatural fire. The group was surrounded, a circle of death tightening around them.
Omega reacted swiftly, leaping into the fray with his naginata blazing. He swung the fiery blade in a wide arc, decapitating one of the Draugr with a single, forceful stroke. Its head rolled across the ground before the rest of its body crumpled lifelessly. With unrelenting speed, Omega lunged toward another, grabbing the Draugr by the skull and crushing it in his powerful grip, the sound of bones snapping filling the air like dry twigs breaking.
Beta, meanwhile, moved like a blur. Her agility unmatched, she darted toward a trio of Draugr, her spear flashing as it impaled one through the chest. With a savage twist, she yanked the weapon free, dispatching her prey in a spray of dust and decayed flesh.
Two more Draugr lunged at her, but she was faster—her claws extended like gleaming blades. With one swift motion, she tore through their brittle bodies, her strikes so precise that the Draugr crumbled in her wake. Her clubbed tail whipped behind her, smashing the final Draugr into a splintered mess against the forest floor.
Kratos, ever the juggernaut, opted for brute force. He charged into the remaining two Draugr, his guardian shield raised.
With a bone-shaking blow, he bashed one Draugr’s skull with his shield, splintering it into shards of bone and dried flesh. Without missing a beat, he swung his axe down in a powerful overhead strike, cleaving the second Draugr cleanly in two, its body collapsing into a heap.
As the last of the Draugr fell, the forest grew eerily silent once more. Only the sound of heavy, labored breaths filled the air as the group stood in the aftermath of the battle. The adrenaline still pulsed in their veins, but they knew the threat had passed—for now.
Atreus stared at the carnage, his chest heaving with a mixture of awe and confusion. He couldn’t shake the unsettling thoughts circling in his mind.
Draugr were rare in these parts. Their presence in the forest made little sense.
“Draugrs? But… they never came this close to our home,” Atreus mused aloud, his voice tight with concern.
Bendy, still on edge from the battle, added in a small voice, “And why were there so many? I thought Draugr were supposed to be rare.”
Kratos’s face remained impassive, his eyes scanning the darkened trees around them for any remaining threats. His stance never wavered, even as he began moving forward again, his Leviathan Axe held at the ready.
“We must continue,” he commanded, his voice firm and unwavering.
Atreus, still reeling from his father’s earlier reprimand, couldn’t hold back his frustration. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading as he addressed Kratos.
“You know, if you give me back my bow, I can help you in the fight. I’m ready,” Atreus insisted, his voice tinged with desperation.
Kratos glanced at his son, his expression unreadable. “You still have to prove it,” he replied coolly, his words heavy with expectation.
Atreus’s brow furrowed in frustration. “I need a chance!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly.
“You had a chance,” Kratos responded, his tone stoic, offering no comfort.
Atreus bit his lip, his fists clenching in frustration. “Then I need another one.”
Kratos’s gaze locked onto his son, his face stern and resolute. “Then find that deer,” he commanded.
Atreus, deflated but still determined, nodded slowly. His disappointment lingered in the air, but he would not give up. He cast a glance at Bendy, Bucky, and Lyris, their expressions mirroring his own frustrations, and the group pressed on, their eyes scanning the treacherous forest ahead.
As the group resumed their hunt, the eerie quiet of the forest enveloped them once more, the chill of their encounter with the draugr still clinging to their minds. Shadows danced across the trees as they pressed deeper into the woods, their steps slow but deliberate. Every crackle of leaves or snap of twigs heightened their awareness, reminding them of the dangers lurking around every corner.
Ahead, they reached a fork in the path, where three narrow trails stretched out like veins through the darkened forest. The trees here grew denser, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky, casting long, ominous shadows over the ground.
"Which way did he go?" Atreus asked, his sharp eyes flicking between the paths. His voice, though steady, hinted at his uncertainty.
Bendy stepped forward, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air, his keen senses finely tuned to track their quarry. "I can smell him. He went to the left," Bendy declared with confidence, his gaze following the faintest of tracks in the damp earth.
Trusting Bendy's instincts, the group moved forward, their collective focus sharpening as they ventured into the heart of the forest.
The oppressive stillness of the woods hung over them, broken only by the occasional rustling of leaves or distant bird calls. After what felt like an eternity, they emerged into a clearing dominated by a towering, ancient temple, its stone walls worn and weathered by centuries of abandonment.
The group hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight before them. The temple loomed over them, its imposing facade lined with faded carvings and weathered symbols. The air here felt thick with an old magic, as if the place still clung to the echoes of its past.
Atreus spotted movement—just a flash—at the edge of the temple. "Look! The deer," he exclaimed, pointing toward the entrance, where the creature had just disappeared into the shadows. "But... Mother wouldn't let me go there," he added, his tone hesitant, recalling his mother’s warnings.
Kratos, standing tall, eyes narrowed, was undeterred. "We do what we must. No excuses," he commanded, his voice a low growl that left no room for debate.
With a nod from Kratos, the group made their way toward the temple. Kratos moved with purpose, his massive frame radiating strength and authority. The others followed, with Atreus and Bendy bringing up the rear, their conversation drifting toward Kratos's ears. The faint sound of their laughter caught his attention.
"Why do you and the cub laugh?" Kratos rumbled, his curiosity piqued despite the gravity of their mission.
Atreus glanced at Bendy, an embarrassed grin tugging at his lips. "It's just... For some reason, Bendy and I kind of expected there to be a Troll under the bridge," he said, a touch of amusement in his voice as he peeked beneath the weathered stone structure they crossed.
Bendy’s excitement bubbled over. "Yeah! That would've been so cool!" he added with youthful enthusiasm.
Kratos grunted in response, unimpressed by their fantasy. "You’re not ready for trolls, boy," he stated flatly, his tone brooking no argument.
Atreus opened his mouth to argue, but the heavy weight of Kratos’s words silenced him. He closed it again, his shoulders slumping slightly in acceptance. "Yes, father," he muttered, his voice quiet but tinged with frustration.
Ahead of them, the massive temple doors stood frozen shut, ancient ice clinging to the stone.
Omega stepped forward to assist Kratos, the two warriors bracing their strength against the frost-encrusted doors. With a deep, resonating groan, the stone creaked as they forced it open, a burst of cold air escaping from within like the breath of the forgotten temple itself.
As the doors gave way, Atreus and the cubs darted forward, the vast hall of the temple stretching out before them like a grand stage. Faded murals lined the walls, depicting long-forgotten battles and stories, and a faint glow from broken windows illuminated the ancient stonework. The silence in the temple felt thick, as if the very air had weight, pressing down on them.
From the far side of the hall, Atreus spotted the deer once more, standing still on the remnants of the temple’s back wall, framed perfectly by the crumbling stone. His heart quickened.
"Can you give me my bow now?" Atreus asked eagerly, his eyes fixed on the deer.
Kratos looked at him, then at the distance. "Can you hit it from here?" he asked, with a question of his own.
Realizing that the deer was too far away for an accurate shot, Atreus reconsidered. "Better come closer," he suggested.
Kratos nodded, acknowledging Atreus's decision to reassess the situation.
Together, they descended the worn stone steps of the temple, the group moving carefully through the vast, empty space. The sense of something lurking in the shadows never quite left them, but no draugr or creatures emerged to challenge their path.
Reaching the bottom, they approached a large gate that blocked their way forward.
With the calm confidence of experience, Kratos examined the mechanism, pulling a heavy chain with a grunt. The gate swung open slowly, creaking loudly in protest. Before it could slam shut, Kratos hurled his Leviathan Axe at the gears, the freezing magic locking them in place and keeping the path open.
Beyond the gate, they finally came face to face with the deer.
Its eyes reflected the light from the dim temple, soft and vulnerable, unaware of its fate.
Kratos handed Atreus his bow and an arrow. "Wait for my signal," he instructed, his voice a steady guide. "Relax. Do not see it as an animal. Only a target. Empty your mind."
Atreus exhaled deeply, drawing back the bowstring as he steadied his breath. His hands were steady now, his eyes focused. With a silent nod from Kratos, Atreus released the arrow. It flew through the air, finding its mark with a soft thud, strucking the deer's flank, causing it to cry out in pain and collapse to the ground.
The target was down.
"I got it!" Atreus exclaimed, pride swelling in his chest.
Kratos nodded in approval. "Good."
As Atreus drew nearer, he saw that the deer was still alive, its breathing shallow and labored. The animal's suffering was evident. Atreus hesitated, his heart heavy with the realization of what must be done.
"Father…" Atreus extended the knife to Kratos, asking silently for him to end the deer's pain.
But Kratos remained unmoved. "No. Finish what you started," he said firmly, handing the responsibility back to his son.
Atreus swallowed hard, gripping the knife with trembling hands. He knelt beside the deer, its soft eyes watching him, waiting for release. His hands shook as he raised the knife, struggling to find the strength to deliver the final blow and with the weight of taking another life.
"I… I can’t," Atreus whispered, his voice barely audible.
Kratos stepped forward, placing his massive hands over Atreus's smaller ones. Together, they guided the knife down, and with one swift motion, the deer's life ended.
As the deer lay still, Atreus stared at the lifeless creature, a strange silence filling the space around him. For a moment, he was at a loss, unsure of how to feel, how to speak. He glanced up at his father, searching for words, for understanding.
"I…" Atreus tried to speak, but the words failed him.
Silently he cast his gaze toward the horizon. They were close to his mother's garden, a place that always brought him peace. Today, however, it felt distant, a reminder of the connection he and Kratos still struggled to find.
Kratos remained silent, his face unreadable. He looked at his son, his hand hovering near Atreus's shoulder, a rare gesture of comfort he wasn’t accustomed to offering. But before his hand could rest on Atreus, Kratos hesitated, pulling back.
Omega watched the scene from a distance, his sharp eyes catching the subtle tension between father and son. He understood that Kratos’s journey as a father was far from over, and the road ahead would be long.
As Kratos retrieved the knife from the deer's throat and handed it back to Atreus, the group stood in a tense silence. The fading daylight bathed the horizon in a warm, golden glow, and for a moment, it seemed like peace had returned.
But their brief respite was shattered by a deep rumble, the ground trembling beneath their feet.
Without warning, a gigantic hand emerged from the shadows, seizing the lifeless deer.
The creature's massive fingers dwarfed the fallen animal, the hand covered in thick, leathery skin, rough and pocked with scars from countless battles.
Atreus reacted instantly, driven by instinct and adrenaline, thrusting his knife into the massive hand with all his might. The blade barely penetrated the thick skin, and the creature let out a low growl of annoyance. In a single, violent motion, it flung Atreus across the clearing like a rag doll, sending him crashing into the far side of his mother's garden.
"ATREUS!!" Kratos roared, his voice booming with urgency and fear for his son. He spun around just as another hand emerged from the shadows, this one poised to crush the group where they stood.
Kratos leaped into action, charging up the massive hand with the agility of a seasoned warrior. He reached the source of the hands, a towering figure stepping into the clearing, its form casting a massive shadow over the group. The creature's tusks gleamed in the fading light, each one as long as a man’s arm. It stood on thick, tree-trunk legs, its eyes burning with primal rage, still clutching the deer in one hand.
A troll.
Kratos wasted no time. He slammed his fists into the creature’s face with the force of a battering ram, each punch aimed at vulnerable points around its tusks. The troll staggered back, its booming roar echoing through the forest as it swung its other hand wildly, trying to swat Kratos away like a fly.
Omega dashed to Atreus's side, kneeling to check on him. “You alright, kid?” he asked, his voice betraying his concern.
Atreus groaned, pushing himself up on shaky legs, still dazed but determined. "We're gonna fight that!?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly as he stared at the enormous troll, which now raised a stone totem engraved with a bright, pulsating orange rune.
"We have no choice," Kratos said, his eyes never leaving the troll. His axe gleamed in his hand, ready for the battle ahead.
Omega brandished his naginata, his eyes sharp and focused. "Get ready!" he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.
And with that, the beast roars with rage and soon, the battle begins.
Atreus nocked an arrow and took aim, but his shots barely grazed the troll’s thick hide, each arrow embedding harmlessly in the layers of muscle and sinew. Frustrated, he gritted his teeth and fired again, hoping to distract the creature as his father prepared another assault.
Kratos dodged a massive stomp from the troll, its foot slamming into the ground with enough force to shake the earth. He retaliated, hurling his axe into the troll’s shoulder with deadly precision. The blade bit deep into the creature’s flesh, drawing a thick stream of dark blood before Kratos recalled the weapon back to his hand.
Omega saw his chance and darted in, driving his naginata into the troll's knee with a powerful thrust. The blade sliced through flesh and bone, and the troll let out a deafening bellow, its massive body swaying as it struggled to stay upright. But the creature was relentless, swinging its totem in a wide arc, forcing Omega to roll out of the way just in time.
Atreus, eyes narrowed with determination, released three arrows in quick succession. Two of the arrows struck the troll's forehead, and the third found its mark in the creature’s left eye. The troll howled in agony, thrashing about as it blindly swung its totem, smashing the ground in wild, erratic movements.
Atreus's anger flared, his voice rising above the din of battle. “Just die already!” he screamed, his frustration boiling over. His focus slipped as rage overtook him, clouding his judgment.
Kratos's voice cut through the air, stern and commanding. "Atreus! Focus!" he barked, reminding his son to maintain control.
Atreus clenched his fists, struggling to rein in his emotions. "I'm fine, just kill it!" he shouted back, but the tension in his voice was unmistakable.
Omega, being the strategist he was, observed the pillars nearby, and then formulated a plan.
"Kratos, Atreus! Keep the troll close to the pillar, Beta!" Omega commanded, his voice firm.
Beta and the cubs exchanged worried glances but looked at her husband, understanding the urgency of the situation.
''Beta! At my signal you throw your weapon at that pillar, understand?'' Yelled Omega while evading the troll's attacks.
Omega's command was clear, and Beta understood the plan without hesitation.
"You got it!" Beta affirmed, ready to execute the plan.
"Kratos! You know what to do," Omega directed his next instruction to Kratos, who nodded in acknowledgment.
With the plan set in motion, Kratos and Atreus prepared to engage the troll. Atreus launched two more arrows towards the troll's throat, eliciting a furious roar. Seizing the opportunity, Kratos intervened by hurling his axe directly at the troll's face. The impact of the weapon threw the creature off balance, causing it to stumble dangerously close to the nearby pillars.
Omega saw his opening and didn't hesitate to act.
Omega's voice carried across the clearing. "Now, Beta!" he shouted, his command echoing through the trees.
With all her strength, Beta hurled her weapon at the pillar. The impact sent a loud crack through the air, and the pillar collapsed, sending chunks of stone crashing down onto the troll’s head. Stunned and momentarily disoriented, the troll staggered backward, its movements sluggish and pained.
Kratos seized the opportunity. With a roar of exertion, the warrior dashed forward, charging at the incapacitated troll.
With a powerful thrust, he slammed his body into the giant creature's head, shattering its left tusk upon impact. With a swift motion, Kratos pulled the troll's head to the ground and, summoning all his strength, he twisted and forced the creature's neck with an audible-
"SNAP!!"
With a final, resounding snap, Kratos broke the troll's neck, ending the creature’s life with one decisive blow. The troll collapsed in a heap, its body twitching briefly before falling still.
Kratos stood victorious, his breath heavy but controlled. The forest was silent once more, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the wind.
But the scene was soon charged with a palpable tension as Atreus, consumed by his rage, vented his anger on the lifeless body of the troll.
His screams tore through the otherwise quiet garden, each one raw with frustration and hurt. The sound of his mother’s knife plunging again and again into the troll's flesh echoed like the beat of a war drum, reverberating in the stillness that had followed the battle.
Kratos and Omega, standing nearby, turned to witness the boy's outburst. Concern clouded their faces.
Kratos’s eyes hardened, his paternal instincts kicking in. He couldn't allow his son to lose himself to this consuming rage.
“Boy.”Kratos's voice cut through the air, firm and commanding. But Atreus seemed deaf to his father's words, lost in his own turmoil.
The boy was relentless, each stab of the blade more vicious than the last. His knuckles were white as he gripped the hilt of the knife, his breaths ragged, the fury in his eyes burning brighter with each passing second.
Omega stepped forward, his posture less forceful but still firm, his voice a calming force amidst the chaos.
“Atreus, it’s over,” he said, keeping his tone even, though his gaze was filled with unspoken concern.
But Atreus didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The troll’s body was nothing more than a vessel for his anger now, a way to vent the storm that had been brewing inside him for so long. With every stab, venomous words spat from his lips, each one laced with the bitterness of unfulfilled expectations, of wanting to be more than what he was.
Kratos moved swiftly, closing the distance between them in a few long strides. He gripped Atreus's shoulders firmly, yanking him back, forcing him to stop. His massive hands, rough and battle-worn, grounded the boy, pinning him in place with a forceful shake.
"Boy! Look at me!" Kratos's voice boomed, vibrating with an urgency that demanded attention. His tone was a mixture of authority and paternal desperation, the weight of countless moments like this one embedded in his words.
Atreus struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. His hands trembled, the knife barely held in his grip, its blade slick with blood.
He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to face the reality of what he had done, of how far he had let his emotions spiral out of control.
But Kratos wasn’t going to let him hide. “Look at me,” he repeated, this time softer, but no less commanding. There was no anger in his voice now—just concern. Concern for his son’s soul, for the path he was walking down, and the consequences if he didn’t learn to control the rage burning inside him.
Atreus's eyes, wild with fury, finally met his father’s.
In Kratos's gaze, he saw the reflection of his own sin.
He saw not judgment, but understanding.
The fury drained from his body, leaving him feeling empty, hollow. His breaths slowed, his grip on the knife slackened, and the weapon fell to the ground with a soft thud.
Kratos held his gaze, searching for any sign that his son had truly returned from the brink. When he saw the fire in Atreus’s eyes begin to dim, he nodded ever so slightly.
“We did it,” Atreus muttered, his voice tinged with a strange mix of relief and pride as he processed their victory over the troll. He wanted acknowledgment, validation, something to show that his effort mattered.
But Kratos’s expression didn’t soften. Instead of pride or congratulations, his words came out like a cold, heavy hammer. “You’re not ready.”
Atreus froze, the sense of accomplishment vanishing in an instant, replaced by confusion and frustration.
How could his father say that after everything they’d been through?
After the fight they’d just won?
"What?” Atreus's voice cracked as he spoke, his disbelief evident. “You're serious? I found the deer! I proved my worth! How am I not ready!?" His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he fought the rising tide of frustration.
Kratos said nothing in return. His face was a stone mask of resolve as he took Atreus’s bow and pushed it firmly back into his hands, a silent gesture that spoke volumes. Their journey, at least for now, was over.
"We are going home," Kratos declared, his voice like the final slam of a judge’s gavel. There would be no more discussion, no room for argument. The decision was made.
Atreus, still reeling from the blow to his pride, turned to Omega, searching his uncle’s face for any sign of support.
But Omega’s expression mirrored his father’s, his silence a confirmation that this was Kratos’s choice, and he wouldn’t interfere.
Frustration and resignation warred inside Atreus, but he knew there was nothing more he could do. His father’s word was final, as it always had been.
Desperation creeping into his voice, Atreus made one last attempt to change Kratos’s mind. “I haven’t been sick in a long time,” he insisted, his voice pleading. “I can take it. I’m strong enough!”
But Kratos’s stance remained unyielding. His gaze, though not without emotion, was hard, his words unwavering. “You are NOT ready,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for hope or further debate.
Atreus stared at the ground, his chest tight with unspoken resentment and disappointment. He couldn’t understand why his father didn’t see what he saw—why, after all this time, Kratos still doubted him. But for now, there was nothing he could say to change it. All he could do was follow, even if his heart felt heavy with unresolved anger.
Atreus trudged up the hill behind his father, the weight of disappointment pressing heavily on his shoulders. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken tension. As they reached the crest of the hill, Beta and the cubs rushed to meet them. Bendy, ever the energetic one, bounced with excitement, his voice practically exploding with enthusiasm.
"Atreus! Dude, that was so awesome!!" Bendy shouted, his tail wagging furiously. "You were shooting at the troll, and it was all like 'Raaghh!' Then Uncle Kratos just walks up and snaps its neck! It was so cool!!" His eyes were wide, sparkling with admiration.
The other cubs were just as animated, their adrenaline still running high from the battle they had just witnessed. Lyris was practically vibrating with excitement, her tail thrashing from side to side. "I've never felt so much energy in my life!" she exclaimed, her voice shrill with exhilaration.
Bucky, always the more dramatic of the bunch, chimed in with a grin. "It was like, super hyper radical!! I mean, I thought it was over for sure!"
Bendy laughed and puffed out his chest, feeding off the cubs' excitement. "Man, if that's what we saw today, I cannot wait for us to start the journey to the mountain! Just imagine what kind of monsters we'll run into there!"
But Atreus's face remained dark, the reality of their situation settling in his chest like a stone. He tried to keep his voice steady, but his words came out quieter than he intended.
"We won't..."
The cubs froze, their laughter and chatter dying down instantly. They stared at Atreus, confusion etched into their faces.
Bendy's smile faltered as he stepped forward, his head tilted in bewilderment. "What?" he asked, his voice uncertain.
Atreus sighed, feeling the weight of Kratos’s decision crush whatever joy had flickered in him moments earlier.
He clenched his fists before answering, his gaze fixed on the ground. "We're not going to the mountain anymore."
"What!?" Lyris and Bucky exclaimed, their voices rising in disbelief. Bucky's brows furrowed, frustration simmering beneath his confusion. "Why not!?" he demanded.
Atreus glanced at Kratos, then back at his friends, bitterness seeping into his voice. "He said I'm not ready."
Bendy's earlier excitement soon vanished like smoke. "But... you're ready. You fought the troll, you shot it! We all saw it! How can he say you're not ready?" His eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and confusion.
Kratos, standing tall and unmoved, shot a sharp glance toward his son. His voice, deep and commanding, cut through the tension like a blade. "I do not wish to hear your voice." His words were cold and final, a clear signal that the conversation was over.
Bendy's eyes flared with defiance, his lips curling in frustration.
Why was his uncle always so... stubborn?
But before he could speak, Lyris stomped her foot in frustration, her voice rising above the quiet. "Are you fricking kidding me? We did all of this for nothing? We didn’t even get to eat the deer!" She pointed towards the lifeless animal, its body mangled and forgotten in the aftermath of the battle.
Bucky kicked at the dirt. "This sucks..." he muttered under his breath, clearly unhappy with the turn of events.
Bendy, always the optimist, tried to salvage the moment. " 'sigh' Come on, guys. Let's not give up yet. Look, I know this sucks right now, but this is nothing! I bet if we just try a little harder next time, Uncle Kratos will change his mind, right, Atreus?"
Atreus hesitated, his gaze shifting from Bendy to his father. For a moment, doubt flickered in his mind. But then Bendy’s hopeful expression stirred something within him. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he allowed a faint smile to creep onto his face.
"Yeah... You're right, Bendy. We just need another chance."
Bendy’s eyes lit up. "That's the spirit!" he cheered, giving Atreus a playful nudge.
Lyris and Bucky exchanged uncertain glances, their excitement tempered by doubt. Lyris spoke first, her voice soft with concern. "But how? He doesn’t seem like he’s going to budge."
Atreus glanced back at Kratos, the imposing figure of his father walking ahead of them. His jaw clenched, and determination flared in his chest. "I don’t know yet, but we’ll figure it out."
Before any of them could respond, Beta's voice rang out from the distance. "Kids! Let’s go!" Her tone was firm but warm, beckoning the cubs to follow.
The cubs, reluctant but obedient, began to head towards their mother.
Bendy paused, looking back at Atreus with a smile full of encouragement. "You coming?"
With a nod, Atreus fell into step beside his friend. As they began the journey back home, Atreus couldn't shake the lingering doubts about his father's judgment. Despite all they had accomplished, Kratos still believed he wasn't ready. But dwelling on it now wouldn't change anything. It seemed they weren't leaving anytime soon, judging by their current direction.
However, fate would have other plans in store.
To be continued...
Voice Actors for the characters.
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Kratos- Christopher Judge ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4k69Gp_X9Cg )
Atreus- Sunny Suljic ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFVdKRoyvPc )
Bendy- Walker Scobell (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSxJIoXrfog&pp=ygUacGVyY3kgamFja3NvbiBiZXN0IG1vZW5udHM%3D)
Omega and Beta- James Paul Marsden and Tika Sumpter ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyfWtUl_DiY&pp=ygUSVGlrYSBTdW1wdGVyIHNvbmlj )
Bucky- Shamon Brown Jr ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bI9tJZsaLqk&pp=ygUUIG11dGFudCBtYXloZW0gbWlrZXk%3D )
Lyris- Amanda Leighton ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScYI-8fXW7Q&pp=ygUVQW1hbmRhIExlaWdodG9uIHBvbGx5 )