Chapter 85 – Echoes of the Fallen
The night had come, and with it, a silence that was heavier than any battle cry.
Not a single sound of wind stirred. Not even the shadows whispered as they stretched across the broken lands. The battlefield had become a graveyard of shattered stone, molten crags, and fractured realms, yet the air itself seemed to thrum with expectation—as if it waited for the next horror to descend.
Kratos stood alone atop the plateau's edge, Leviathan Axe in hand, eyes scanning the horizon. The crimson moon hung low, casting jagged reflections across the scarred earth. Every tremor beneath his boots reminded him that the realms themselves were still unstable, ready to tear apart with the faintest provocation.
Atreus approached slowly, his steps cautious. The fracture inside him pulsed violently, like a heartbeat with no rhythm. He could feel it tugging at his chest, whispering, coaxing him to release its raw power. One strike. One surge. End everything.
He swallowed hard. "Father… it's different now. Stronger. The Nine… they're adapting faster than before."
Kratos's jaw tightened. "Then we adapt faster. You control the fracture. You endure it. Do you understand?"
Atreus nodded, hands trembling slightly on his bow. The threads of energy shimmered faintly, coiling and snapping with every heartbeat, a visible testament to the fracture's impatience.
From the horizon, a ripple of darkness moved, spreading like ink across the already blackened lands. The Nine were coming again—not in the disjointed waves of before, but in perfect formation, their synchronization terrifying, their movements almost mechanical.
Xenara's voice cut through the tense air. "They've learned. Every tactic we used before, they anticipate now. You'll need more than skill… you'll need instinct and control."
Kratos's hand tightened around his axe. "Then we fight with both."
The first of the Nine appeared as a colossus of fused void and fractured realm, towering over the plateau. Its armor shimmered with red cracks, void energy leaking like molten veins. Shadows coiled around it, forming jagged weapons that writhed and struck before Kratos or Atreus could react.
Atreus's fracture pulsed angrily. Release it. End them all.
He shook his head, forcing calm. "Not… yet…"
The colossus moved with lethal grace, swinging its massive void blade. Kratos leapt forward, axe meeting blade with a shockwave that tore stone from the plateau's edge. Sparks and shards of ice flew outward as frost clashed with void energy. The ground beneath them shuddered violently, fissures splitting wide.
The Nine's assault intensified. From every rift, shadow constructs surged forward in waves, each one perfectly coordinated, attacking the edges, the front lines, and even the sky above. Kratos swung, every strike calculated, yet every blow was countered by adaptive constructs that reformed almost instantly.
Atreus loosed arrows threaded with fracture energy. The threads wrapped around shadow constructs, compressing and shattering them in controlled bursts. But each exertion of the fracture left him drained, trembling, and increasingly aware of its hunger. One release… one strike… one moment…
Xenara's wards flared, attempting to stabilize the plateau as stone crumbled beneath the weight of the attack. "You can't hold them all!" she shouted. "They're splitting the waves—they're testing your limits!"
Kratos swung his axe again, scattering a cluster of constructs. "Then we force them back—one strike at a time. Focus on survival, not victory."
The colossus staggered under a precise blow but recovered instantly, eyes flashing crimson. It raised its blade, energy cascading outward in a pulse that fractured the air itself. Atreus's bow sang, threads lashing out, weaving around the shockwave to contain it. For a moment, they held.
But the Nine had learned. From the shadows, smaller constructs lunged with synchronized precision, forcing Kratos and Atreus to split their attention. Every step toward one threat opened them to another.
Atreus felt the fracture scream, trying to rip free. Release it. End them. End everything.
He gritted his teeth. "No! Control… focus…"
Kratos shouted above the chaos, "Do not let it control you! Only channel it, not surrender to it!"
The colossus struck again, and this time the ground beneath them cracked catastrophically. A fissure split across the plateau, threatening to swallow Atreus. With a desperate leap, he fired a thread anchored to Kratos's wrist, pulling himself back just in time.
The fracture roared in defiance. You cannot hold me!
Atreus felt sweat trickle down his brow. He glanced at Kratos. "It's too strong… we can't keep this up forever."
Kratos's eyes hardened. "Then we break their line before the plateau collapses entirely. We survive first—everything else is secondary."
A sudden movement caught their attention. From a rift near the horizon, one of the Nine emerged—smaller than the colossus but faster, sleeker, and twisted with jagged shards of broken realms embedded in its body. Its presence shifted the battlefield, forcing Kratos and Atreus to reposition immediately.
Kratos swung his axe, meeting the newcomer in a clash of metal and shadow. Sparks flew, frost erupted, but the enemy adapted mid-swing, its limbs reshaping to parry every blow. The battle became a blur of motion, Kratos striking, blocking, rolling, each attack met with a counter he couldn't fully anticipate.
Atreus fired threaded arrows into the fray, but for every construct neutralized, two more rose. He felt his strength falter. The fracture's pulse became insistent, almost suffocating. Release it. Release it. Release it.
"Stay in control!" Kratos roared, sensing his son's struggle. "Your strength lies in your restraint, not surrender!"
Atreus steadied his breath. Slowly, carefully, he began weaving threads with precision, binding the shadows to themselves and to the plateau edges. Constructs were temporarily immobilized, rifts stabilized—just long enough for Kratos to strike, to drive the enemy back.
But then came the largest wave yet. The colossus moved forward, followed by dozens of smaller forms. The plateau shook violently, chunks of stone collapsing into the abyss. Xenara's wards flared brightly, trying to stabilize the ground, but the effort was straining her to the limits.
Atreus felt his fracture pulse with unmatched intensity. He clenched his hands, forcing the threads to follow his will, not its. Every construct they bound felt like a tiny victory against the overwhelming tide. Every stabilized section of stone was a miracle.
The colossus roared, swinging its massive void blade. Kratos blocked, rolling through the impact, then slammed the axe downward, shattering a cluster of constructs at its feet. Atreus fired another thread, wrapping it around the colossus's ankle, pulling with all his strength. The beast faltered, but not for long—it recovered instantly, its red eyes fixed on Atreus.
Xenara gasped. "The fracture is responding to its gaze! Be careful!"
Atreus swallowed, feeling the pull of temptation again. Release it. End them. End everything.
He gritted his teeth. "No… I control it!"
He channeled a measured pulse, using the fracture to weave threads into the colossus's form, binding its limbs momentarily. Sparks of red energy clashed with frost as Kratos struck, frost exploding outward to freeze a path forward.
The Nine's laughter echoed across the plateau, chilling and layered. Yes… endure… resist… but you cannot hold forever.
Kratos met the largest enemy head-on, blade and axe colliding with a force that split the air itself. Shockwaves sent constructs flying into the abyss. Atreus's threads stabilized the ground just long enough to prevent a collapse.
Xenara's wards flared at maximum intensity. "This is it!" she shouted. "The line will break if you falter!"
Kratos's eyes never left the colossus. "We will not falter!"
Atreus released another controlled surge, binding the shadows, stabilizing the plateau, anchoring his father's path. His pulse raced, fracture screaming, but he endured.
The plateau quaked violently under the combined assaults. Rifts expanded. Shadows surged. And the Nine, relentless, adapted at every step.
Yet amid the chaos, Kratos and Atreus held their line, refusing to yield.
The battlefield teetered on the brink of destruction. Every step, every strike, every thread held the fragile hope of survival.
And in that darkness, a single truth remained:
They could not win here. Not fully. But they could survive—and sometimes, survival alone was the greatest victory.