{Helheim, on the far side of the Bridge of the Damned…}

Kratos got to his feet. It was cold, but he had been here before. He was in some sort of stone building, a tower, perhaps. But first… "Atreus!"

"Here, Father!"

Kratos proceeded to Atreus' voice, and finding him, flipped over a stone that had fallen on Atreus. He dragged the boy to his feet by the forearm. He spoke harshly and with authority. "Listen to me, boy. I am your father, and you are not yourself. You are rash, insubordinate, and out of control. You will honor your mother, and abandon the path you have chosen." Atreus said nothing, looking glumly at the ground. Kratos' expression softened slightly. "We are here because of you. Do not forget that. This conversation is far from over." He released his grip on Atreus' forearm, and turned to look for a way out.

"W-where are we?" shivered Atreus.

Mimir replied in an instant. "Far side of the Bridge of the Damnned, the worst place in Helheim you could have put us, I'm afraid. Our best bet is to head to the nearest dock, which should be… er… somewhere around here. A ship of the dead could take us at least half-way to Týr's Temple, and further away from this blasted cold."

"Boy," called Kratos. He had found a way out of the building, a precarious climb along its outer surface. Cracks in the stone face would provide just enough grip for Kratos to climb out, even with the added weight of Atreus on his back.

They climbed and roamed the frigid and ruinous necropolis. As they began to move around another broken chamber, they heard a voice they recognized, two in fact.

"No… no, no, no, no… I would never have wanted this!" It was Baldur, but his voice seemed, not entirely there, somehow.

The other voice replied indignantly. "I had every right, I am your mother." It was Freya's voice, equally ethereal as Baldur's.

"Listen," whispered Atreus.

"Keep out of sight," replied his father.

The strange conversation continued.

"You had no right, witch," retorted Baldur. "I can't taste, I can't smell, I can't even… I can't even feel the temperature of this room." His voice quavered as he finished speaking. "Feasting, drinking, women! It's all gone! Gone!"

Freya's voice pleaded on. "But you never have to feel pain again! Death has no power over you now! You would rather die?"

"Then never feel again? Yes. YES!" Baldur's voice sank into a whisper. "I would rather die."

A third voice, also Baldur's, but far more present, muttered in assent. "Yes…"

Peeking over a ruined wall, Kratos and Atreus saw fully what was happening in this chamber. Baldur was pacing around, entranced by a ghostly vision of himself and Freya, conversing, perhaps from the distant past.

The ghost of Baldur took his mother's hands in supplication. "Take it away, mother… please… please take it away."

Ghostly Freya shook her head. "I can't… it doesn't work like that… son… Trust me, in time, you will thank me… you will thank me."

Baldur of the present circled around this vision, muttering constantly under his breath.

After a moment's pause, the specter of Baldur spoke. "No… no, I won't. You ruined my life."

"Honey, we can figure this out, I promise, trust me, I know how-"

Spectral Baldur seized the ghost of Freya by the throat, and brandishing a knife. "No… no, not if you can't fix it, mother…"

The real Baldur practically shook where he stood in fury. "C'mon… c'mon… DO IT! DO IT! Do it! COME ON!"

The specter of Freya looked into the vision of Baldur's eyes, pleadingly. "Son…"

Scowling, the vision of Baldur raised the knife to plunge it down, but he stopped himself with a pain grunt. He shoved Freya to the ground, lowering the knife. The true Baldur seemingly relaxed, but his voice turned livid. "Coward!" he spat at the vision of himself. The shade ignored him.

It glowered at Freya. "I never want to see you again. Never." The spirit turned angrily to leave, dissipating into a grey mist, and vanishing, leaving the shade of Freya behind. Baldur lashed out at the departing vision, punching at it uselessly as it disappeared. He turned next to Freya, glaring bloody murder at the ghost. It did not perceive him, insteading rising to its feet in sorrow, and walking away slowly.

"What you did to me… WHAT YOU DID TO ME?!" Baldur shrieked wordlessly in rage and agony, striking again with his fists at his mother, to no effect. At last, the sheer force of his attack against nothing caused him to stumble to the ground. His furious cries gave way to tears and sobs of utter despair and hatred. He muttered to himself again. "I'm a coward… I'm a coward… I'm a… worthless coward…" The Aesir slammed his fists on the ground in anguish, as he wept, not feeling the broken stones break the skin over his knuckles, nor did the lethal and frigid winds of Hel freeze his muscles, all of it warded off by his curse.

Kratos and Atreus moved away from the area quietly, leaving Baldur to his misery. Once they had gone some ways, Kratos spoke. "Freya is his mother… Why did you keep this from us, Head?"

"Would you believe it slipped my mind?"

"I would not."

"Eh… I'm at a loss then."

Atreus had an idea. "Do you think the other Mimir would know?"

"Oh, the duplicate? No idea, lad."

{E-Rantel, the Mayor's Villa…}

"No, Your Majesty. I'm afraid Baldur is blessed with invulnerability to all threats, physical or magical. He can't be killed. This is high Aesir magic we're up against. Odin's wife and Baldur's mother, Frigg, did the magic herself." Still a severed head, Mimir had been placed on Ainz's desk in the villa.

Ainz Ooal Gown stood near a modestly-sized glass habitat box near a window overlooking the city. He inserted a green leaf of cabbage into it. "Hello, Nurunuru… you hungry?" At Ainz's coaxing, a small leech-like creature with a grotesque humanoid mouth on one end slithered into view, biting into the leafy morsel Ainz offered. The Sorcerer King chuckled to himself as he replied to Mimir. "Our alliance with Asgard is secure. For now, we will merely watch Baldur's movements and react if he moves against us."

I really need Mimir to pull through here with the information. If, no, when Odin betrays this 'alliance,' he's going to send Baldur to do his dirty work, along with Thor and Heimdall and the others. I can retreat as much as I like, but information is what will win or lose the coming war with Asgard. The problem is, the records we have from YGGDRASIL don't tell us what killed Baldur in the end. All we know is that he dies before Ragnarök, despite being invincible, and that the trickster god Loki was the culprit. This gap is worsened by the incongruencies between the lore of YGGDRASIL, Mimir's knowledge, and our own empirical findings. Do I need to find Loki to defeat Baldur? If anyone knows Baldur's weakness, he would know…

Mimir sputtered. "Hold it, time out. An alliance?! With Asgard?! How'd that come about?"

"Surprised?" asked Ainz, almost smugly.

"Well, yes, Your Majesty, I am rather surprised. So, who's Odin's next marriage victim?"

Albedo, standing regally nearby Ainz's desk, smiled. "Thanks to Lord Ainz's negotiating genius, the indignity of marriage to any of the Aesir has been avoided."

"Has he now? That's good to hear. Remember, the last poor woman to share Odin's bed was Freya, and look how she turned out in the end."

"Hmm… Freya…" mused Ainz, surveying the city below. He stroked his bony chin in thought. I should pay her a visit soon, and try and build the rapport I promised to build with her earlier. The protection spells I placed on her have not been triggered, so she is not in any danger for now. Also, since she was Odin's wife, she should have valuable information about the inner workings of Asgard. I was going to wait until after visiting Jötunheim, but that's been taken away from me now. He stepped away from the window, returning to sit at the desk and resume a long day's work of approving various documents.

Albedo furrowed her brows as she considered what Mimir had said. "Did you not say Odin's last wife was Frigg?"

"Aye, milady."

"But you just said his last wife was Freya as well. If you are to continue being of service to Lord Ainz, you will present information in a consistent and useful manner."

"That's strange… Freya and… Frigg. They're, uh…"

The succubus administrator looked away in annoyance to process the issue, as Mimir somehow struggled. After a moment, she reached a conclusion. "Same person, different names…"

"Correct!"

"So Freya is Baldur's mother, then. Not Frigg." asked Ainz. "But Freya is a Vanir, yes?"

"Correct! How'd you figure that she was the mother?"

Albedo eyed Mimir suspiciously. "And yet, you said it was an Aesir using Aesir magic that made Baldur supposedly invulnerable, and that an Aesir was his mother. Does Freya know any Aesir magic?"

"No, but she taught Odin the basics of Seiðr while she still trusted him. He gave her the name 'Frigg' out of affection at first, or so I thought, but over time, he used it in propaganda to separate the deeds from the doer, so to speak, and credit them instead to a fabricated Aesir queen."

"Why not tell us directly that Freya and Frigg were the same from the start?" asked Ainz. "Why talk as if they are different people?"

"You're right! They are the same! I know they're the same, but it gets me every time!" exclaimed the reanimated advisor, as if he himself had just realized the truth. "To answer your question about why, I don't rightly know. Whenever I think about Freya or Baldur and such, I just…" Mimir trailed off, as if whatever he was saying had just faded from his mind.

"You just what?" Albedo's patience wore thin enough for her to change the tone of her voice as she put the question to Mimir.

Ainz said nothing, and simply gripped the severed head by the scalp. "[Dominate Undead]."

Mimir cried out in pain. "YAAAGH! Ymir's armpits, what was that for, ma-… er, Your Majesty?"

"Umu…" So Freya's power's of necromancy are on par with my own, just as her spells of concealment can defeat my divination magic… If she was a weaker necromancer than me, the [Dominate Undead] skill should have given me complete control over Mimir, but Freya's magic defeated the skill instead. I will keep that in mind.

"Lord Ainz?" Albedo looked at Ainz with some degree of concern. "Is everything well?"

"Yes, Albedo. I know now that there is a magic caster on par with me, at least."

An idea popped into the succubus' head. "Mimir."

"Yes, milady?"

"Tell me what Baldur's weakness is."

"Er, Baldur is invulnerable to all threats, physical or magical. He can't be killed."

"In words besides those you just said, tell me Baldur's weakness."

"Baldur is blessed with invulnerability to all threats, physical or magical. He can't be killed."

"What object can kill Baldur?"

"Baldur is blessed with invulnerability to all threats, physical or magical. He can't be killed."

"Is there a way for us to kill Baldur?"

"Baldur is blessed with invulnerability to all threats, physical or magical. He can't be killed."

Ainz and Albedo looked at each other in mild bewilderment at what was happening. Albedo's onto something. Mimir even replies with the exact same cadence each time… He's like a broken record…

"Albedo, what if you reframed the question somehow?"

"Yes, my Lord. Mimir, when did you find out Baldur's weakness?"

"Oh, that was quite a while ago, Your Majesty. I so happened to overhear a conversation in Asgard, Idunn's garden if I recall, between Freya and one of the Valkyries and she mentioned that the… er… oh, what was it again? A spell of some sort? A word of power? I'm blanking on it, dammit!"

It clicked in Ainz's mind. Freya's mixed up in this somehow. Has she modified Mimir's memory to protect her son? I will need answers from her.

"Umu. Albedo, return to Nazarick, and fetch… fetch the Fiore twins. We have somewhere to be."

"As you command, my Lord."

"Oh, Albedo. Issue a standing order to all our forces and allies, applicable to the Floor Guardians as well. I will offer a generous reward of their choice to anyone who provides information to us regarding anyone named Loki. Location, physical description, et cetera."

Albedo bowed deeply, and gracefully departed the room.

Ainz said nothing for a while.

"Loki?"

A lie would do for now. "An old friend of mine I'm looking for."

"Right... Well, good luck finding him then, I suppose. Never heard that name before. So, paying an unannounced visit to a certain Vanir goddess-in-exile, are you?"

"I need information from her about Baldur, so yes."

"I know I'm a new hire and all, but could I make a request of you?

"What do you want?"

"If you've any gratitude for the advice and information I've given you, please show it now, and leave Freya well alone. She's been put through enough shite as it is by Odin, but none of that would have happened if I hadn't persuaded her to marry the one-eyed bastard. I don't think I could stand knowing that she'll be made more miserable because of me."

"Miserable? She seemed whole and in good health when we last met."

"She looks that way, sure, but I assure you she's but a shadow of her former self, as punishment for defying the Allfather. You know, if I hadn't arranged for her to marry Odin, she wouldn't be where she is now. She should be in Vanaheim, at the head of her people, standing strong against the Aesir. It's all my fault that she's been separated from them. And now you're wanting to go hunt her down and interrogate her because of information I can't seem to provide."

"What do you mean by a 'shadow' of herself? Her magic is still quite potent."

"For non-combat purposes, sure. But she's been cursed by Odin to remain trapped in Midgard, and she cannot truly fight, even in self-defense. 'No living thing may she harm, by blade or spell.' Are you really going to make her choose between dying for her son, or living while her son dies? If you've ever had anything like a child before, I think you'd know what her choice will be."

The statement came as an unexpected blow to Ainz's thoughts. Damn… he's right… I've been predicting her actions based on what I would do in her place. My mistake was thinking we would act and think similarly to each other. We likely wouldn't. She can experience and be controlled by strong emotions, and I can't, since I'm undead. Imposing that kind of dilemma on her would only work against me. Love for one's child will make parents do the most senseless things for their sake. My own mother back in the old world died making my favorite food one morning. She was so tired. She'd spent the last week working around the clock, no sleep or even food. I saw her drop dead with a sigh, right before my eyes. Baldur may be a hill Freya is willing to die on. All things considered, killing Freya to extract some short-term tactical information from her would waste the other potential benefits she could provide to Nazarick in the long term. I want an ally or servant who knows Seiðr magic, since I do not have such a person already in my service. A secret alliance with Vanaheim would be beneficial as well, if we can find a way to travel there. If I am able to return Freya to her people as a show of good will, they would likely be grateful for my help. And gratitude of that kind is tantamount to control over Vanaheim. I recall Mimir saying the Vanir fought the Aesir to a standstill, a fact our YGGDRASIL lorebooks corroborate, so having Freya on my side would be a great boon. Even imprisoning Freya is out of the question for that reason. For now, I think I will alter the purpose of our little trip. I could still use the fresh air.

The office door opened. Albedo came in once more, followed by Aura and Mare. They all greeted Ainz with a bow.

"That was faster than I expected, Albedo."

"Thank you for noticing, Lord Ainz. During one of our previous meetings, I impressed upon the other Guardians the importance of obeying your summons speedily."

Aura took the chance to look extra proud of herself. "And I suggested it be a competition among ourselves! The fastest arrival to your summons wins!"

"S-s-sis and I m-managed to be r-r-ready to cross through t-t-the [Gate] in just fifty-one s-s-seconds…"

"Umu. Impressive, all of you." Ainz stood up from his desk, walking around to stand in front of it. "Albedo, I will be taking these two to Alfheim for a while, after some brief preparations in Nazarick. I would like you to manage things here in my absence. Aura, Mare, I believe we have not visited either of the Dwarves to have your equipment improved, nor have you been introduced to Brok, the other smithing talent in our service. We will go to Týr's Temple to change both of those things, hopefully."

"Lord Ainz, I beg leave to remind you that Alfheim is a realm highly unsuitable to the undead. I implore you that you at least take a strong guard with you, like myself, for your defense."

Ainz could tell Albedo was being quite sincere in her warning, although her usual ulterior motives behind accompanying him were not off the table. "Aura and Mare's previous trip with their undead guards showed undead could survive unharmed in the realm, and they are all weaker undead than I. I am grateful for your concern all the same, Albedo, and I will proceed with all possible caution."

The Guardian Overseer bowed deeply in deference. "You honor me by even hearing my misguided concerns, Lord Ainz."

Ainz nodded, unsure of what to say in response to that.

"Give the word, Lord Ainz, whenever you're ready!" Aura beamed, before giving a sterner glance to her brother. "Are you ready, Mare?"

"Y-y-y-y-yeah, I am!" Mare nodded furiously, as if trying to convince himself as much as Aura that he was ready.

Mimir piped up. "Say, Your Majesty, I don't suppose there's room in this trip for a reanimated severed head? I've not been to Alfheim for some time, but unless something crazy has happened, it shouldn't be all too different from my last visit."

"Were you not imprisoned for over a century? Surely any society can change in that timeframe, even among a long-lived species such as elves?" replied Ainz.

"Usually, aye, but this is Alfheim we're talking about."

"I understand that both Light and Dark Elves inhabit the region. Aura and Mare went there before. What else is there to know?"

"Just a centuries-long war between the two species of elves."

"That long?"

"Sadly, yes. It used to be over control of the Light of Alfheim in its center, but the poor sods have been going at it for so long that fighting each other is a part of who they are, for the most part. It's pitiful, really, since Alfheim's such a beautiful realm. War wounds such things, but that's the way of the world, I suppose."

"It would seem so… I will ask you to wait just a little longer, Mimir. I promise to make it up to you. Albedo, I entrust him to your care for now."

"As it pleases you, my Lord."

"Very good then. Come along, Aura, Mare. [Gate]."

The three of them were gone, leaving Albedo and Mimir in the office. The latter breathed a sigh of relief, a little weight lifted off his non-existent shoulders, a little guilt cleared from his conscience, as he thought of the woman he had damned long ago with flattery and empty promises. Freya… I know you can't hear me… I don't think anything I can do will truly make amends for what I've done to you; all the lies I told, all the excuses I gave for Odin, and the depravities I concocted in his name… But maybe fate's given me another go this advising business, to limit the harm the gods can do, rather than enable it. Maybe, as the Sorcerer King's advisor, I can push him away following Odin's path of paranoia and cruelty. Talking him out from hunting you down is just a start. I'm so sorry for everything, Freya…

{Týr's Temple, Helheim…}

Atreus got to his feet , as did his father. They had made it to the temple, although by an ad hoc, unorthodox entrance.

"That was your plan?! You're both cracked!" cried Mimir.

Atreus looked up at the aforementioned entry point: the broken hole roof. Through that hole, burning red in the cold Helheim sky above was the means they reached the temple from the docks: a dilapidated ship borne aloft on the heat of primordial fire. It drifted out of sight. But none of that mattered now. They away from the freezing chill of Helheim, and in reach of Midgard, of home.

"Boy. Let us go."

"Coming, Father."

They passed through a set of doors, into a chamber, dimly-lit despite the cold of Helheim, filled to the brim with books.

"What is this?" asked Atreus.

"This is Odin's," sighed Mimir. "I recognize his atrocious taste anywhere."

Another door. Leaning against the wall within the next chamber was a wooden panel that looked to have been carved from a larger object.

"Look!" pointed Atreus. "This looks like it's from a Giant shrine! Why was it torn out?"

"What is this, Head?" asked Kratos.

"Let me have a look." Once Kratos held Mimir and pointed him towards the panel, the severed head began to think. "Ah, I recognize this! This belongs to the Jötnar shrine made in honor of Týr. It's actually in one of the chambers below, one which leads to the Rune stone for Jötunheim. Ainz and his people would have come across the other two panels when they fetched that stone."

"Ainz… I forgot about him. Where'd he go?" wondered Atreus.

"He disappeared. Moments after Baldur attacked."

"Just like that? But I thought he was trying to help us."

"You did. But you thought wrong. I told you not to trust the undead, boy."

"'Fraid your da's right again, lad. Just because someone talks softly and doesn't try to kill you right away doesn't mean they're any good. I learned that well enough from Odin…"

"Now. The panel. What is it, Head?"

"Well… clearly that's Týr in the middle there, flying or something. But where, and where to?"

Atreus pointed to the corners of the panel. Strange markings were placed in each corner. Two looked like variants of a triskelion shape, the third a stylized eye, and the fourth, Ω. "What are those runes?"

"Not runes," corrected Mimir. "Symbols, from different lands. They mean–"

Kratos' heavy brow furrowed as he laid eyes on the Ω. "War. This one I know too well." Something else caught his attention. In the center of the panel was the carved relief depicting Týr. But the figure's eyes… "Look here, Head. The eyes. They are crystals. Like yours."

"No doubt representing the gift of sight the giants granted us. Let me take a closer look… yes… very interesting…" As Mimir scrutinized the crystal, a golden light flashed in the Týr-relief's eye, spreading throughout the wooden panel. On the left side, on what had once been a just painted cliff-shape, there appeared a golden door, marked by a complex keyhole. In the space above Týr-relief's outstretched hand, a strange egg-like object appeared, and a golden bridge of light appeared beneath his feet.

Atreus' eyes went wide. "What is that?"

"These must be secret plans, concealed by Týr so that none could access them but Týr himself, and those others the Giants trusted. And right under Odin's nose!" Mimir laughed. "I told you I'd get you to Jötunheim!"

Kratos' eyebrow raised in suspicion. "What do you mean, Head? You said the gate at the mountaintop was the last one. Are we not out of options?"

"Don't you get it, brother? Odin never gave up hope, and neither should we! He knew there was a clue in here, but we're the ones who found it! These are the plans for a key to a secret chamber that's hidden somewhere. I don't know where it leads or what we'll find, but it's a path!"

Kratos grunted. "How do we make the key?"

The Smartest Head Alive had the answer. "I suggest we ask a dwarf."

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, everyone. The reviews, good and bad, give me life.