Loki sits with parted lips, "The middle floors with no falna... That is indeed a steep secret," she says, a sudden smirk appearing as her slits roam to Atreus' bow and shoddy tunic, "Say... You wouldn't happen to need any new equipment, would you?"
Atreus notices her scrutinizing gaze, his fingers running along the string of his bow, "...My mother gave this to me," he responds with furrowed brows.
"What are you playing at?" Mimir asks.
Loki stares at the severed head for a moment, and her slits widen to reveal bright red eyes, "...Mama, will you bring me a drink?" Loki glances at Riveria, "I'll need some alcohol if I'm meant to speak with a talking head."
"Stop calling me that," Riveria responds, sighing as she disappears through the double doors.
Loki cackles, slapping her knee, "She's great, isn't she?..." she says, her eyes returning to the trio, "...Well, this is the thing; I'll be doing you a favor by keeping your secret, so it would only be courtesy for you to return a small favor, right?"
Kratos stares at Loki with a disgruntled expression, a massive purple swirl of energy shining in his vision. He sees past the facade that Loki presents, a man sitting where a woman should be with the same scarlet features, "...I do not think you understand the situation," his voice rumbles through the room.
The smirk widens again, and Loki leans forward, elbows to knees, "Oh, but I'm pretty sure I do... Join my familia. Do that, and your secret will not leave me or my children. I can promise you that," she says.
Kratos stares with that same stone face, "Will you not change your mind?" he asks, his patience running out, a tiny flame gasping for air.
Loki's slits widen again, "Nope, that's my final offer," she says, that grin still plastered to her face.
Silence falls, a numbing tension that fills the room almost instantly. The flame wisps, reduced to sparks. And those too soon fade into nothingness, "Ah, hell. Well... It was nice knowing you people for the moment. This may be your last mistake..." Mimir says with a flowing melancholy, genuinely sorry for the looming fate of the people before him.
"What?" Finn asks from the side of Loki's sofa.
Suddenly, Kratos stands, his eyes rising to meet Loki's slits, "You tried, boy. And I envy your patience, but... It seems these people still take us lightly," He says, a long stride taking him to Loki in an instant.
Kratos towers over the god, and suddenly, Finn launches himself towards the Greek God, "Get away from her!" he screams. Though the Pallum is met with rough fingers to his throat, squirming as his tiny legs are lifted from the ground. Finn kicks wildly, a vase shattering on the carpet.
Atreus sighs as he watches the scene unfold before him, his shoulders sagging as his head slumps, "...I tried... I really did," he mutters to himself.
"What are you doing!?" Loki yells, the smirk nowhere to be seen as she stares at Kratos with wide eyes.
Kratos' eyes rip from the Pallum, scowling down at Loki, "I warned you..." he hisses through his teeth, "...But you did not listen," a blood-curdling crack suddenly fills the room, and Finn slumps in the Greek God's hand. The Pallum drops to the floor, and Loki stares at his limp body with her jaw ajar, "Finn... FINN!" she screams, lunging at his body with open arms.
Though her ankle is suddenly squeezed, and her head slams to the wood floor. Kratos raises the trickster god before him, holding her ankle with a tight grip, "Is this still a joke to you?" he hisses.
Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Riveria sprints into the room, followed by Ais, Bete, Tiona, Tione, and a burly dwarf with a brunette beard, "Loki, what is- Oh god! Protect our Goddess!" Riveria yells, and the entire group closes in on Kratos with weapons drawn.
A foot meets Kratos' arm, and Bete meets an unmovable object. The Ghost of Sparta grits his teeth as he grabs the werewolf's ankle. The world spins for Bete, and his body slams into each of the familia members. Several crashes occur, with each member embedded into the walls and strewn across the carpet. Kratos raises the werewolf by his ankle and slams him into the floor, splinters of wood flying through the room at dangerous speeds.
"Urkk... Huuu..." Bete struggles for air, his body convulsing in the crater created by the force of the slam.
Kratos' eyes return to the Goddess still held tight in his grasp, and he grimaces, "Do not make me return," Loki falls on her neck, sitting up on the floor as she looks around at her injured party strewn across the room, "Oh, god... What- What have you done!" she yells as her eyes roam to the blood leaking from Finn's mouth and nose.
"Come, boy... We are done here," Kratos says, the rage dissipating from his bloodstream as he steps over the Werewolf buried in the wood. He picks Mimir up from the sofa, and walks toward the exit with Atreus following close behind, "Yes, father..." the boy says, his eyes darting to each of the incapacitated adventurers.
A minute passes, and the trio exit the mansion, the sunlight touching their skin. They walk in silence, and Kratos pushes the metal gate open with ease, the hinges nearly ripping off. Atreus walks with slumped shoulders, glancing up at his father, "Is there really nothing else we could have done?" he asks.
Kratos looks down at Atreus as he walks along, patting the boy's shoulder as his eyes return to the buildings lining the stone street, "...Do not forget, Atreus. We are gods, and we do as we please. I did not wish to resort to violence, but my patience only stretches so far," he says.
"Dontcha think they'll come after you?" Mimir suddenly asks.
Kratos grunts, "Only a fool would choose to face a foe they cannot triumph over..." he says, "...Though this city seems to be filled with them."
"Aye, brother. You're not wrong about that..." Mimir says, "Though I did have an idea while we were speaking to that god."
"...Go on," Kratos responds, his arm still settled to Atreus' slumping shoulders.
"Well, you're a god, brother..." he says, "...And if what that elven woman said is true, then shouldn't you be able to create a familia?"
Atreus' ears perk up as the Celtic Faerie finishes his words, "Father! That would be amazing! I could level up and become even stronger!" he says with a new wave of excitement in his voice.
Kratos hums, pausing for a moment as he glances at Atreus. His pale skin sparkles in the sunlight, and finally, he takes a breath, "...That would seem to be our best option for you to grow stronger. Fine... But we will need to study how it is done, first," he says.
"I'm sure there's a wanker that knows the inner working of these familias like the back of their hand. We just have to find them," Mimir says.
Suddenly, a growl rumbles through the air, and Atreus grabs his stomach, "Oh... I forgot... We didn't eat anything yesterday," he says with a slight chuckle.
"...Then we know what we must do... The Familia can wait for now," Kratos says, patting his son's shoulder one final time.
Oh, boy... The first victims of The Ghost of Sparta.
Love you beautiful people. I hope you enjoy this chapter, because I definitely enjoyed writing it.