CHAPTER 97 — THE HEART OF THE ABYSS
The spiral of the Seventh Realm narrowed, walls of jagged stone rising on either side like the ribs of some colossal, dead creature. The crimson mist clung to Kratos and Atreus, curling around their limbs as if alive, whispering faintly, promising despair, promising death. Every step forward felt like wading through molten iron, the air heavy and thick with the Realm's latent energy.
Kratos' eyes were narrow slits, scanning every shadow, every movement, every flicker of crimson light. The Leviathan Axe hung at his side, frost glinting faintly as though aware of the danger ahead. "Do not speak unnecessarily," he said, his voice low, controlled. "Every sound betrays your presence. This Realm hunts. And it will learn from us."
Atreus followed closely, threads lacing along his arms, bow drawn. His mind raced with the residual energy of the fracture, the same power that had both saved and nearly consumed him. "Father… I can feel the Heart of the Realm. It's… different now. Stronger. Angrier. Like it knows we've survived so far."
Kratos' jaw tightened. "Then we must move faster. The longer we linger, the more it adapts."
The spiral opened into a wider plateau, jagged and broken, stretching into an abyss that seemed to devour light. At its center pulsed a massive core, a dark crystal fused with veins of crimson energy—the beating Heart of the Seventh Realm. Around it, shadows writhed, humanoid shapes twisted and contorted as they rose and fell like waves of despair.
Kratos' eyes narrowed. "There. That is our target. Everything else… is a distraction."
Atreus released a volley of arrows, threads lacing the air as they struck the shadows, binding them and tearing them apart. The humanoid forms shrieked silently, dissolving into mist, but each dissipated shadow only seemed to feed the Heart, pulsing brighter, the crimson glow spreading across the plateau.
Kratos' voice was calm, lethal. "Do not hesitate. Strike only where it can be struck. Every wasted effort strengthens it."
From the darkness of the mist, a figure emerged—a towering amalgamation of shadows and stone, its limbs impossibly long, hands tipped with jagged claws, eyes burning like coals. It was more terrifying than any creature they had faced, its form shifting and writhing, drawing power from the very fabric of the Realm.
"You trespass," it intoned, a voice more felt than heard, resonating inside their bones. "You cannot survive what you have awakened. You will fall, as all who dare do."
Kratos tightened his grip on the Leviathan Axe. "We define our own survival."
The figure lunged. Shadows exploded outward, jagged shards raining down from the plateau walls. Kratos rolled to the side, swinging the axe, frost erupting in violent bursts as tendrils of darkness struck against him. Atreus fired arrow after arrow, threads lashing outward, binding the creature's limbs and slowing its movements, but the figure adapted instantly, moving with unnatural speed and precision.
"It's learning from us," Atreus shouted. "Every strike… every move!"
Kratos' gaze was sharp, calculating. "Then we force it to learn faster than it can adapt. Precision. Discipline. Strike with purpose."
He leapt onto one of the creature's massive arms, running along the shifting, writhing surface. Frost spread with every step, cracking veins of shadow that pulsed with crimson energy. The figure screeched—a soundless scream that reverberated in their minds, clawing at their sanity.
Atreus' hands glowed faintly, threads lashing out, binding tendrils of the creature to jagged stones, yanking them into the abyss. "Father… the Heart—it's feeding on its pain!"
Kratos growled. "Then we give it more. We cannot stop until it is broken."
He drove the Leviathan Axe into the creature's chest, frost erupting violently, shards of shadow flying in all directions. The figure thrashed, limbs lashing out wildly, but the combination of Kratos' relentless strikes and Atreus' threading kept it contained, forcing it toward the center of the plateau.
The Heart pulsed violently, reacting to the creature's agony. The ground quaked, cracks opening beneath them. Stones fell into the abyss below, the spiral threatening to collapse entirely. Mist twisted into shapes of fallen warriors, their faces frozen in silent screams, reaching out as though to drag Kratos and Atreus into the depths.
"Father! We have to strike the Heart directly!" Atreus shouted.
Kratos' eyes narrowed. "We will. But only when the creature is weakened. One mistake and we both fall."
The figure lunged again, a massive tendril sweeping toward them. Kratos leapt, swinging the Leviathan Axe with brutal precision, frost slicing through shadow. The creature shrieked, staggering, its movements less coordinated.
Atreus fired arrows imbued with fracture energy, threading through the creature's veins, striking its crimson pulses. Sparks erupted, shadows screamed, and the creature faltered, staggering toward the Heart.
Kratos growled. "Now. Together."
They advanced in perfect synchronization. Kratos' axe struck deep into the creature's chest, frost exploding outward, shattering veins of crimson energy. Atreus lashed threads around tendrils, yanking them into jagged stones. The creature reeled, shadows collapsing, and for the first time, it seemed vulnerable.
The Heart pulsed violently, its glow surging, but the creature could not defend itself fully. Kratos leapt high, driving the Leviathan Axe into the very core of the Heart. Frost spread violently, shattering crimson veins, fragments of shadow scattering into the mist.
The creature screamed—a soundless, soul-shattering roar—and its form imploded, collapsing into the abyss. The plateau quaked one final time, mist swirling violently, shadows dissipating, leaving only faint remnants of energy pulsing weakly from the Heart.
Kratos and Atreus stood, bloodied and battered, the crimson mist curling around them like smoke from a dying fire. Their breaths were heavy, but their resolve was unbroken.
"Atreus," Kratos said, voice low and controlled. "We have survived. But the Realm is not done. It will adapt. It will remember."
Atreus nodded, threads shimmering faintly along his arms. "I can feel it, Father. The Realm… it's alive. But it's afraid now. We've made it hesitate."
Kratos' eyes swept the plateau. "Fear is temporary. Survival is our path. We move forward. The spiral continues deeper, and the Realm will test us again. Every step is a challenge… but we endure, or we die."
The crimson mist swirled around them, shadows retreating just beyond sight. The spiral ahead stretched into darkness, deeper into the heart of the Seventh Realm, where even Titans feared to tread.
Kratos tightened his grip on the Leviathan Axe. "The Realm tests us, boy. But we do not submit. We endure. And we will endure… or we die trying."
The whispers of the fallen returned, faint but insistent, carried on the wind of the spiral. Promises of terror, of pain, of despair—but Kratos and Atreus ignored them. Their focus was absolute. Their resolve unshakable.
The Heart of the Seventh Realm throbbed weakly, scarred by their attacks, but still alive. A reminder that their true test was far from over.
Kratos muttered, eyes narrowing. "This is only the beginning. The Realm has more to show us. And when it does… we will be ready."
The crimson mist swirled, shadows coalescing into new forms just beyond their perception. Every heartbeat was a warning, every step a challenge.
And Kratos knew, deep in his bones, that the Realm's darkness was not finished. The true nightmare of the Seventh Realm was still waiting. Patient. Merciless. And hungry.
They pressed forward, together, into the abyss.