Pride
Kratos is proud. He knows it, but he'll never admit it. He's proud of the man his son is becoming, he's proud of his swordsmanship, he's proud of the part he played in the saving of Colette and the two worlds. And surely these are selfless reasons for pride?
Kratos lies on his back, staring up at the same green-grey ceiling. Everything is green-grey left, right, up and down. This drifting world is his home now. Auburn hair fans out beneath him on the floor. There is much time to think now and it really is a 'high-intellect' pursuit, so Kratos doesn't mind that his sword skills are going unpractised. He knows he can pick them up again at the drop of the hat anyway. He thinks on many things. He ponders the foolishness of his old friends and the ways of the world and the family he twice left behind.
Kratos wonders what it would have happened if he'd asked Lloyd to come and live with him in Derris-Kharlan. But he wouldn't have, he never did and it's a moot point to think of. The green-grey stone provides an empty echo,
"He would only have been in the way."