Chapter 55 – When Gods Feel Fear
Night came quickly.
But it was not a natural night.
There were no stars.
No moon.
No wind.
Just a ceiling of unmoving darkness pressing down on the broken world, like a lid sealing a grave.
Kratos stood on the edge of the collapsed summit, silent as stone. The Hollow Reaches had sealed itself after the eruption—no crack, no entrance, no sign that anything had ever existed beneath it. Only scars etched into the mountainside and a dead silence that refused to lift.
Behind him, Atreus lay motionless on the fractured ground.
Alive.
Breathing.
But changed.
His pulse no longer surged blindly into the land. It had pulled inward. Contained. Coiled.
Like a beast learning patience.
Kratos knelt beside him. For a long moment, he said nothing. He simply listened… not to Atreus' breath… but to the world.
The realms were uneasy.
Even the birds had fled.
Then Atreus' fingers twitched.
Slowly, his eyes opened.
They were no longer glowing.
But they were no longer the same.
There was weight in them now. Awareness. As if he could see through more than just air and stone.
"How long?" he asked quietly.
Kratos did not look away from the horizon.
"Long enough for the world to decide whether it still wants us in it."
Atreus pushed himself upright, wincing slightly. "It doesn't…" he paused, searching for the right word. "It doesn't sound the same anymore."
Kratos finally turned to him. "What do you hear?"
Atreus closed his eyes.
"I hear… doors. Closing. And far away… others opening."
A heavy silence followed.
Then it came.
A presence.
Not from the ground.
Not from the sky.
But from somewhere between realms.
The air several paces away folded, like reality inhaling sharply — and a tall, cloaked figure emerged from nothingness. Robed in layers of shadow and faded cosmic dust, face hidden beneath a hood carved with symbols that shifted and vanished.
Kratos was on his feet in an instant, axe summoned to his hand.
Atreus didn't move.
He already knew.
"What do you want?" Kratos snarled.
The figure's voice was soft. But old. And far too calm.
"I am not here for you, Ghost of War."
The hood tilted slightly.
"I am here because… they are afraid."
Atreus slowly stood, stepping beside his father.
"Who?" he asked.
The figure's head lifted toward the dead sky.
"The first of the Nine has stirred. The second has opened its eye. The third has spoken a name long forgotten."
The wind returned for the first time.
Cold.
Unnatural.
"What name?" Atreus whispered.
The figure turned to him.
"Yours."
Silence slammed into the world again.
"You touched the shattered veins," the cloaked one continued. "And in doing so… you brushed against the chains that bind the Nine. They felt you, boy. Not as a threat…"
A pause.
"…but as a key."
Kratos took a step forward. "Then tell me how to end this."
A quiet, almost sympathetic laugh came from beneath the hood.
"There is no 'end,' Kratos. Only which side of the door you stand on when it opens."
Atreus looked down at his hands.
"I didn't mean to… wake anything."
"Meaning has nothing to do with awakening," the figure replied. "Only blood and destiny."
The air suddenly vibrated with energy.
Far away, somewhere not meant for mortal ears…
a deep horn sounded once.
Then a second time.
Then a third.
Each call was distant… but powerful enough to rattle the bones beneath their feet.
Kratos' jaw tightened. "What is that?"
"The Nine calling to one another," the figure said. "They have sensed imbalance. And they do not respond with mercy."
Atreus looked up sharply. "Are they gods?"
A pause.
"Some once were," the figure answered. "Some never should have been. Others were born from things even gods refuse to remember."
Another shudder passed through the world.
Atreus staggered slightly, clutching his chest.
"Father…" his voice strained. "They're not just calling… they're looking."
Kratos grabbed his shoulder.
"Look at me. Stay with me."
Atreus nodded, breathing hard.
"I can see them… not their forms… but their attention."
He looked out into the darkness.
"And one of them is very close."
The ground behind them cracked.
Not violently.
Precisely.
A circular pattern burned into stone as black smoke began to coil upward. Within seconds, a massive silhouette started to form — tall, broad-shouldered, crowned with horns shaped like broken crowns, eyes burning like distant suns.
Not fully entering this world.
Merely testing it.
Testing him.
A voice boomed out of it — not loud, but absolute.
"THIS IS THE BLOOD THAT SHOOK THE VEINS?"
Atreus did not run.
Even as fear surged like poison in his veins… he did not move.
"Yes," he replied, his voice quiet…
…but unbroken.
"I am the one."
A long, heavy silence followed.
Then a low, echoing sound came from the being.
Not anger.
Not joy.
Interest.
"YOU ARE SMALL."
"Yes."
"YET YOU TOOK WHAT WAS LOCKED."
"Yes."
Another pause.
Kratos stepped in front of Atreus.
"You will not touch him."
The entity's burning eyes shifted to Kratos.
"NO… NOT YET."
The air trembled.
"THE BOY WILL COME TO US OF HIS OWN WILL… OR HE WILL BRING YOU TO US WHEN HE FALLS."
Silence fractured around the words.
The being began to fade.
But its final words burned into the air:
"PREPARE YOUR HEART, CHILD OF WAR… ONLY ONE OF YOU WILL REMAIN WHEN THE NINE STAND TOGETHER."
Then it was gone.
No sound.
No echo.
Just the smell of scorched reality.
Atreus stood frozen.
Kratos slowly exhaled.
For the first time in many years…
There was something close to fear in his expression.
"They don't see me as a person, do they…" Atreus murmured.
Kratos placed a hand on his shoulder.
"No. They see you as a future."
A slow, heavy pause.
"Then I'll choose what kind," Atreus said.
In the distance, thunder rolled.
But there were no clouds.
Only a gathering darkness that seemed to lean closer to the world… as if listening.
Somewhere unseen, unseen hands were moving pieces across a board older than time.
And now…
Atreus was one of them.
Kratos looked up at the dark horizon.
"Come, boy," he said quietly. "We leave this place before the rest of them arrive."
Atreus nodded.
As they walked away from the ruined summit, something watched them from beyond the veil of realms.
Not the Nine.
Something even older.
And it smiled.