Chương 275: God of War: Chains of the Heart (God of War, Kingdom Hearts by LetsDoThatAgain
Words: 120k+
Link: -https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/god-of-war-chains-of-the-heart-god-of-war-kingdom-hearts.1090701/
( When an otherworldly visitor crashed into Midgard, Kratos begrudgingly accepts that his life is about to get weird. Again. )
Chapter 1
Magical Mystery
God of War and all associated characters and interpretations are property of Sony Santa Monica. Kingdom Hearts and all associated characters are property of Disney and Square Enix.
/+/+/+/+/
Krsh-Krsh-Schwung
There was once a time where Kratos of Sparta would detest the lulls between combat. Even when at home surrounded by his loved ones, his blood always sang for battle and conquest.
Krsh-Krsh-Schwung
When Kratos of Sparta became Kratos, the God of War, his lust for battle grew tenfold. If only because, at the time, he had nothing else to look forward to in life.
Krsh-Krsh-Schwung
Now, Kratos, the father of Atreus, almost adored the peace that dwelled after conflict. Now that he knew that he could be more than he once was. That his previous path of destruction and ruin was not one he was chained to. He had the choice, the will, to be better.
Krsh-Krsh-Schwung
Even if, at the moment, the only thing he desired to better was the sharpness of his axe.
He put down his whetstone, hefting the ax with both hands to look at it in a better light. A wonderous tool that saved his life, and that of his son's and allies, more times than he cared to count. Unbidden, his eyes fell to the mark of the Huldra brothers on the heft. Even now, Brok's death was a bitter sting to his heart, and the state it left Sindri in…He had not seen the dwarf since the Brok's funeral in Svartalfheim. Few had. Only Lúnda, the only other dwarf in the Nine Realms who could possibly rival the Huldra brothers in skill, knew his whereabouts. And she refused to tell anyone what she knew.
In the end, there was nothing Kratos, or anyone, could do. Whether Sindri rejoined society or not, whether he wanted to reforge the bonds they once shared—the choice fell to him, and him alone.
Gruff-Ruff-Bruff
Kratos shot to his feet as Speki and Svanna, Atreus's wolves, started barking. Only to relax as a peal of laughter sounded soon after. Kratos walked forward and opened the door. Even now, the sheer brightness of the sun was blinding following the near-constant darkness of Fimbulwinter in Midgard. But his eyes adjusted, and his heart welled up at the sight of his son, fallen to his butt and laughing as his wolves showered him with affection.
"Okay, okay! C'mon, stop it!" Atreus said between giggling gulps of air. "I'm all covered in sweat and grime; it can't be that tasty!" Kratos watched over the sight for what felt like forever. Seeing his child grown-up, yet still growing, was a bittersweet balm on his soul.
The day would come when Atreus, fully mature and assured own self, would not come to his father first upon returning to the Ni—Eight Realms. Would visit other friends, or perhaps a lover, before Kratos. Other responsibilities above filial piety occupying his attention. When Kratos could finally be at ease that for once, he'd been able to successfully build something up as opposed to tearing it down.
But that day, whenever it would come, was not today. So, Kratos would hold onto their current bond for as long as he could.
Eventually, Atreus tore himself away from his wolves. His eyes brightened upon seeing Kratos. "Father!" he exclaimed with a wide smile, leaping to his feet and stepping forward. Only for Kratos to hold up and hand and arch a brow. "What are you—oh…" it was at that moment his son looked down and registered that fact that he was all-but dripping with wolf slobber. His son blushed and stepped back with a sheepish smile. "Right…My bad."
Kratos let out an amused huff. "Clean yourself. I shall get a meal ready." Kratos turned back to the house, only to pause at the door. "Welcome back, Son."
Atreus's beaming smile came back full force. "Glad to be back, Father."
/+/+/+/+/
Kratos spent the meal in silence. Rather, he spent it listening to his son speak animatedly of his travels. He'd visited a desert this time, and Kratos thought of his brief visit to the Land of Pharaohs. Of course, such musings brought…Athena to his mind, so he shoved those thoughts away to not spoil this time with his son.
"And I swear, those gray cattle-like beasts should be classified as monsters, not simple animals! I saw one tear a boat in two, to say nothing of what would have happened if it got it jaws on me!"
Kratos managed not to roll his eyes as Atreus wrapped up his disastrous encounter with a Hippopotamus. Perhaps he didn't have to worry about his son not needing him for a while yet if he was foolish enough to antagonize one of them despite, as he'd admitted, warnings from the locals.
Kratos made to grab himself another spoonful of stew, only to freeze. It was only for the briefest instant, but he felt a terrible energy run down his spine. A chaotic mixture of ice, fire, and lightning clashing together and assaulting his senses. He knew that energy. He'd felt it at least once before. But where?
"Uh…Father?" Kratos darted his head up to his son, who was staring out the window with a concerned frown. "Did you…feel that?"
"I did," Kratos replied, setting down his bowl and rising to his feet.
"Well, do you know what it was?"
"I—guh!" Kratos stumbled as the chaotic energy came back with a vengeance, pulling at his soul.
"Father!" Atrues cried and rushed over. "What's going—ah!" Atrues cut off into a harsh gasp. Affected by the same energy, no doubt.
Soon enough, it subsided, and father and son climbed to steady feet.
"Father," Atreus said, eyes alight with concern. "What was that?"
"I…I am unsure," Kratos lied. He was almost positive he knew what that was now, but he didn't want to believe it. He refused to even entertain the possibility. It had been ages, and that part of his life was washed away and buried in Greece.
Fwum-Fwum-THUD
Kratos turned towards the familiar sound of beating wings outside his home. He stomped over and wrenched the door open to see Sigrún—the once Queen of the Valkyries, now a 'humble' shield maiden. In her hands she held the head of Mimir, the Smartest Man Alive.
"Brother!" Mimir cried. "Please tell me you felt whatever the hell that was!" Kratos only nodded.
Atrues popped up from behind him. "Hey, Mimir, Sigrún!"
"Ah, little brother! When'd you get back?"
"Just a bit ago. How've you two b—"
Kratos cut him off with a wave of his hand. "You two had nothing to do with…the disturbance?" he asked, though he knew the answer.
"Not a thing!" Mimir proclaimed.
"We were simply flying through the air—taking in the land beneath us," Sigrún said. She shuddered, her wings flaring outward and flapping with abandon. "I almost fell out of the sky when that…terrible energy coursed through my being."
"Aye, it was not a pleasant feeling, even for a talking head," Mimir added. "Wasn't as unpleasant as getting the Bifrost channeled from my neck stump to my eyes. though."
"Come again?" Sigrún looked down at Mimir in shock.
"But this energy felt…odder. Unnatural, I'd say. Almost like—agh!" Mimir shouted as another wave of energy, more powerful than the last, tore through their bodies.
When it subsided, unlike the previous times, a dull echo remained. It trailed, for lack of a better term, eastward.
Kratos bit back a harsh sigh. "Sigrún, return to Vanaheim and gather Freya and the Valkyries." Mimir and Atreus exclaimed in alarm, but Sigrún, a soldier through and through, simply nodded, and handed over Mimir before taking to the skies. Kratos wordlessly attached Mimir to his belt and stalked back into his home. It was only when he strapped the Leviathan Axe and Blades of Chaos onto his back that Atreus found his voice again.
"Father?" his son asked, a nervous tremor in his voice. "What's going on?"
Kratos sighed deeply and looked Atreus in the eyes. "Something…troubling. I have my suspicions, but I shall say nothing until we have investigated the source of these disturbances."
"Alright, brother," Mimir said with a firm tone. "Lead on." Atreus nodded, pulling out his bow and stringing it as he exited the house. Kratos took a steadying breath before following him outside.
/+/+/+/+/
The energy grew more potent the further they went, yet weaker at the same time. Kratos, leading the way, suspected the source of it had finished crossing over from…wherever it came from.
Mimir grunted from Kratos's hip. "Brother, it really would be helpful if you told us exactly what we're heading towards."
"I agree, Father," Atreus said. "I don't like running in blind." There was a soft lilt in his voice. Something reminiscent of when he was younger. When he didn't fully trust his father…
Kratos stopped and turned around to face his son. "Atreus, why did you destroy the mask Odin so desperately desired? Why did you not use it to peer through the tear in reality?"
His son was caught short by the question. "Uh…I didn't want to." At Kratos's arched brow, he added, "If Odin was right, and it led to all these answers about the future—where gods go when they die and all that…I'd seen how obsessed people could be with their prophecies of the future. Odin was just plain crazy, but even the Giants weren't all that great about it. I mean, Angrboda had spent her entire life thinking that the only thing she would ever amount to was handing me a sack of marbles. Her parents wasted away, and her grandmother went crazy because of those beliefs—that they were less important than Loki. How much could the Giants have accomplished if they didn't chain themselves to their visions of the future?" He shook his head. "I almost fell into that trap—I wasn't about to do it again."
"Well said, lad," Mimir said with clear pride and affection. Kratos kept silent but did smile and place a hand on Atreus's shoulder.
"Knowledge can be dangerous, son. If what we seek is what I suspect, I promise, I shall answer your questions. But I would not place this burden upon your shoulders if it's not required." He'd forever worry over the things he'd learned during his tenure as Greece's God of War. Paranoid, even during the peaceful years he'd spent with Faye. The threats he'd faced…They were forever seared into his memory. He'd even allied with Zeus, however briefly and tenuously, to combat one of them.
Mimir hummed lightly. "I'll admit, I'm not fond of being kept in the dark. But if there's anyone in the Realms that'd know about strange, foreign magics, it'd be you. Or Tyr, perhaps, but he's still somewhat addled from him imprisonment."
"How is Tyr doing?" Atreus asked as they moved forward once more.
"Well enough, lad. Still doing his strange stretching exercise for all to see without a care in the world. He's trying to gather students, now."
"Anyone take him up on the offer?"
"Not many at first. But word started spreading that the increased flexibility leads to some…added benefits within one's bedroom."
Atreus faltered in his next step, face and neck flushing. "Oh…Sounds…fun."
"Very fun, so I've been told," Mimir said cheerily. He chuckled deviously. "You know, I believe I heard Angrboda mention that she'd started attending a few lessons."
Atreus almost lost his footing, his face growing redder than Thrúd 's hair. "Has she now?"
Even Kratos took a momentary reprieve from his unease to tease his son. "Perhaps you should also attend a few lessons. It would not do to leave all the work to her."
"Father!" Atreus cried, scandalized, as Mimir cackled. Whatever else he had to say, however, was cut off by a sudden flash of yellow lightning, followed by a harsh Boom of thunder.
Kratos and Atreus crouched further to the ground. "Do you know anyone that can use yellow lightning?" Atreus asked.
"Outside of a dragon?" Mimir pondered.
"Not in these lands," Kratos replied, stilling the terror in his heart. Slowly, they made their way forward. As they did, they could make out the sounds of a fight. A little further and they reached a hill, overlooking a clearing, and the source of the fight.
"Raiders?" Atreus whispered, staring at the men and women with magically imbued animal attributes, some alive and well, most battered, and a few as little more than charred, lightning-fried corpses. "They're still around?"
Mimir, held in Atreus's hand to see the action, grunted. "Well, your father does have a point about knowledge being dangerous, lad. Once the mortals of Midgard figured out how to transform themselves…That's a heady power for a number of them. I'm far more curious about the person these lovely folk are surrounding, however, and that bizarre thing in his hands."
Kratos agreed with Mimir. The person in question was a young man, with features alien to any Kratos had seen in Greece and the now-Eight Realms—though with a light tan that wouldn't be out of place in his homeland—his hair brown defying gravity with how it spiky it was. The furs he wore were some of the finest Kratos had ever seen, his boots and gloves were styled like a bear's paws, and a silver chain in the shape of a three-horned crown jangled on his neck.
But the most striking feature was the 'bizarre thing' in his hands. It looked like an oversized silver key, the teeth shaped like a crown, like his necklace. But it had a golden guard that wouldn't be out of place on a sword, and attached to the end was a charm of three overlapping circles, one larger than the rest. Kratos knew this weapon. He'd never seen one but had heard tales of it and its wielders.
"What the heck is that thing?" Atreus asked.
"A Keyblade," Kratos replied, trying to keep the dread out of his voice.
"A what?" Atreus and Mimir said in unison.
Kratos would have said more, had one of the raiders not sprung into action. He barreled forward with surprising speed, his makeshift axe held aloft and poised to slice the young man in two.
Only for the Keyblade wielder to block the attack with almost contemptuous ease. "Back off!" he cried; his weapon held out as he spun in a tight circle. Four thin pillars of formed around him, sending the surrounding raiders flying away.
Atreus and Mimir would have exclaimed in wonder, had Kratos not clamped a hand over their mouths. They looked up at him in alarm, but Kratos refused to take his eyes off the Keyblade wielder. He flowed like the wind, unimpeded by any and all obstacles. What foes weren't pulverized by his weapon were burned, frozen solid and shattered to pieces, or electrocuted by his powerful magics.
When the time the last raider fell—by a solid blow to the chest that sent him flying with an audible crack of breaking ribs—the Keyblade wielder wasn't even winded. The young man scanned the clearing, and after determining that the danger had passed, dismissed his weapon in a flash of light. He walked over to a tree and sat against it with an exaggerated sigh.
Slowly, Kratos released his hold on his son and friend.
"…So," Atreus drawled, staring wide-eyed at the man. "What now?"
"Common decency dictates we should say hello," Mimir said. He side-eyed Kratos. "Unless you have any objections, brother?"
Kratos debated his options. Ultimately, what kept him from sending Atreus and Mimir home was the knowledge that Sigrún was on her way with Freya and the rest of the Valkyries. Should the worst come to pass, and Kratos wasn't able to defeat this man, their assistance would tip the scales in their favor.
He hoped.
He rose to his feet and gestured for Atreus and Mimir to stay behind him. Slowly, they made their way down to the clearing.
The Keyblade wielder noticed them as they reached flat ground and shot up to his feet. He entered a defensive stance, face set into a frown. Kratos stopped and held up a hand. The young man's frown softened. He looked around at the corpses at his feet. "…Were these your friends?"
"No."
The young man relaxed. "Oh, good." Until he saw Mimir in Atreus's arms. He exclaimed and gestured wildly to the head. "Woah! What's with the head?!"
"Oh, don't fret," Mimir said. "I'm quite alright, despite appearances."
The young man's alarm was quickly replaced with wonder. "It talks?"
"It is a he," Mimir harrumphed. "And he has a name."
The young man bashfully crossed his arms. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." Kratos calmed a touch. Whatever this Keyblade wielder's intentions, he at least seemed polite, and not eager for confrontation.
Still, he couldn't just let him do whatever he wanted while the Eight Realms and its people were still healing. "These lands hold nothing for you. Leave, now." he said gruffly.
"Father!" Atreus said with mild disapproval.
"A bit rude of you, brother," Mimir added.
But the Keyblade wielder looked at Kratos in a new light. "Do you know about…?" he trailed off and summoned his weapon in a flash of light.
"I do," Kratos replied.
Kratos received a sad smile in response. "Got ya." The young man dismissed his weapon and crossed his arms. "Well, sorry to disappoint, but I can't just leave. I'm kinda stuck, I can feel it."
"Stuck?" Kratos repeated, displeased. The Keyblade wielder just shrugged in bitter defeat.
"Father," Atreus spoke up. "Who is the guy? Do you know him?"
"No," Kratos replied. "He is…not of this world."
Atreus frowned. Mimir hummed. "Based on your choice of word," his friend said, "I don't think you mean from beyond the realms like yourself."
Kratos sighed. "He is from a land far beyond the stars themselves. Past a veil that separates our lands from countless others."
The Keyblade wielder smirked with amusement at Atreus's and Mimir's baffled expressions. "He's right," he said. He gestured to himself, his smirk shifting into a sincere smile. "My name's Sora. Nice to meet'cha!"
/+/+/+/+/
A/N: I am only going to say this once to curtail any talk about Sora being flippant or brutal about killing humans—Sora is a stone-cold bastard that takes no prisoners and gives zero fucks. When he was fourteen, he just watched as Clayton, a bog-standard human being, was crushed to death under the Stealth Sneak heartless. He beat the utter shit out of Jafar and Captain Hook, two more humans, and only failed to finish the job because the former became an immortal genie (and don't forget he was totally cool with trapping Jafar in a collapsing cave, presumably for all eternity), and the latter ran away from Tick-Tock the Croc. He unambiguously killed Maleficent (and would later mock Pete about the deed in KH2). During KH:CoM, as far as he was aware the Organization members were fully-fledged humans and he was okay with killing them (he only objected to Vexen's death because Axel, one of his 'allies', did the deed). Shan Yu, Scar, Barbosa and his cursed pirates, the hostile programs The Grid (who are, for all intents and purposes, human), Davy Jones, Cutler Beckett and countless innocent members of the British Empire's Navy. Sora either kills them all or stands aside as they die, usually with a smile.
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực