The Encounter
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.
/+/+/+/+/
The first thing that struck Atreus about Muspelheim was that the terrain had changed. There were more lava flows and mishappen, broken land formations. The air itself felt even hotter, if such a thing were possible. As though the moisture in his body was getting sucked away by the second.
"Yeesh," he said as he exited the temple. "What happened to this place?"
"I suspect Surtr's demise had something to do with it," Mimir replied with a sad tone. "He'd spent so much of his time in this realm, tied himself to it, that the lines between the two blurred a little. What affected one affected the other. It'll stabilize, no doubt, but until then we'd best watch our step."
"Will it prevent us from finding the entrance to the Spark of the World?" Kratos asked.
"Probably not. But if the paths are blocked, well, you're a resourceful fellow."
"Woo! Man, you guys weren't kidding. This place is hot!" Atreus looked over his shoulder at the sound of Sora's voice. He was fanning his face with his hands.
"You gonna be okay?" he asked.
"I'll manage," Sora replied. "So, what are we looking for?"
Atreus and his father scanned the landscape. "There!" Atreus said after a moment, pointing to the giant sword denoting Surtr's forge. "The entrance is near that giant sword in the cliffside.
Sora bent forward, hand pressed perpendicular against his forehead. "Looks pretty far. And high."
"Shall that be a problem?" Father asked.
"Only if we get blown off near the top and have to climb back up again," Sora replied with a surprising amount of bitterness.
Mimir chuckled. "There's a story there, I'm sure."
"Yeah, but I'd rather start climbing."
"Then let us be off," Father said, leading the way forward.
Thankfully the ground near the temple was solid. Unfortunately, that solid ground had to end eventually. And it ended at a lake of lava that flowed off a cliff.
"Lovely," Atreus grumbled, turning from the cliffside to the waterfall of lava that fed into the lake. He could turn into a bird and fly, but not long distances without taking long breaks. Which he wasn't all that comfortable doing in Muspelheim.
"Why did we come through the temple again?" he complained.
"The gateways were rendered untenable following the change in landscape," Father replied. He grunted at the small rocks jutting out of the lava. "Perhaps we can lessen the flow and open a path." He pointed to the start of the lavafall's flow, where two outcrops just barely impeded the lava. "Atreus."
"I see it." He held his bow in his hands and took aim. "Auka!" he called as he released his shot, the arrow glowing purple as it flew. It hit one of the outcrops, a purple magic sigil appearing around the arrow on the top of one of the outcrops. He quickly sunk another arrow, creating another sigil, on the opposite outcrop. His father nodded and pulled out his axe. With a sharp bellow, he hurled the axe at one of the sigils. After a moment, there were two explosions of ice, and the lava flow froze solid.
"Woah!" Atreus jolted at Sora's voice—he'd been so quiet, observing their surroundings with wide eyes, he'd almost forgotten he was there. "That was so cool! What were those arrows? And your axe has ice magic?"
Atreus smiled. "Those were sigil arrows. They increase the effects of magical weapons. Like the frost magic of my father's axe."
Sora's smile, if at all possible, widened. "Awesome!"
"Do not celebrate just yet," Father cut in. He gestured to the lava lake, which, as he'd predicted, had shrunk down. But though it revealed makeshift platforms they could use, there was still, well, a lot of lava. "We have not even begun to reach out goal."
Sora's small shrunk in size, but not in glee. "Then what are we waiting for?" Before Atrues of his father could protest, Sora leapt forward. But, to Atreus's horror, he overshot the nearest platform.
"Sora!" he cried out, only to pause as, instead of falling into lava, he perched on the part of the platform that had been unsubmerged before they stopped the lava flow.
Sora, balancing precariously, yet easily, on one foot, looked over his shoulder. "What?"
Atreus blinked. "Uh…nothing. Just don't go too far ahead." As Sora shrugged and hopped off to the other side, Atreus turned to his father, who was as stoic as ever. "Did you know he could do that?"
"No," he said, staring at Sora's acrobatics with something akin to…nostalgia?
Atreus smirked. "Thinking about your old knees?" While his father sent him a brief glare before making his own, more mundane leaps ahead, he heard Mimir stifle a laugh. Atreus made his own easy leaps on young, spry knees, and met his father and Sora on the other side.
"That was impressive," Atreus said to the young man. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
"Learned it in a dream," Sora replied, hopping on a series of tall rocks on the side of the path.
Atreus rolled his eyes. "Fine, don't tell me." Sora just snickered.
"Ah, I remember being that nimble," Mimir said wistfully as he watched Sora flip in the air. "Flitting between trees and staring down at glens below."
"What was your home like, Mimir?" Sora asked, landing back on semi-even ground.
"Oh, where to begin?" Mimir's voice lightened in the way it always did when he spoke of his birthplace. "It was a lush, magical land. Could hardly take a step without—Draugr, behind us!"
Atreus and his father both whirled around at their friend's cry. Indeed, the undead creatures—augmented by Muspelheim's fiery atmosphere—clawed free from the ground. Atreus grit his teeth and fired arrows at the rising foes—four crumbled to cinders with one arrow through their eyes, but even if he was fast enough to hit the couple dozen that popped out from the ground, they either dodged or had fully formed and could take the hit.
His father leapt into the monster mash with a harsh shout, one swing of his axe bisecting two of the creatures.
It was at that moment that Atreus felt a blur rush past him. He lowered his bow, eyes wide and jaw slack at the sight of Sora flying over the ground towards the Dragur, clad in a bright blue, sparkling aura. He kicked off one of the larger undead creatures, and spun around in three tight circles, his Keyblade held out as rays of light followed its movement, both them and the blade striking all the draugr around him, outright killing those closest to him. He then followed this up by slamming his weapon against the ground, several beams of light pushing out around him and knocking back the remaining enemies, after which he darted around to smash the Dragur apart into nothing.
Even his father took a brief moment to stare at Sora before returning to the task at hand, which Atreus took as his cue to stop messing around. Mimir, however, was free to gape.
Between Sora and Father, with Atreus picking off the stragglers, the Dragur were slain in record time. Just in time for more to burst out of the ground from behind Atrues, in fact.
"Really?" Atreus scoffed, leaping backwards and firing arrows into the chest of the Dragur closest to him.
"Atreus, get back!" Sora shouted. Hearing the determination in his voice sent a shiver down his spine, so Atreus shifted forms into a sparrow, flitting backwards next to his father before shifting back.
Sora spun in place, swinging his weapon low to the ground before holding it high above his head, the tip glowing blue. "Stream!" he shouted, and two pairs of soft blue lights came to life at his head and feet. The lights wove up and down his body ad four streams of water appeared from nowhere around Sora. The water streams gathered at the tip of his Keyblade, before shooting towards the Dragur like an arrow.
What happened next was an explosion of water the likes of which Atreus had never seen. It literally washed away all the Dragur before them, droplets falling to the ground and, despite the intense heat of Muspelheim, puddling together.
Sora grinned, resting his weapon his right shoulder. "There we go!" He then turned to Atreus with an excited smile. "Hey, did you just turn into a bird?" Nonplussed at the question, Atreus nodded. "Woah, that's awesome!" Atreus said nothing, simply pointing to the drenched ground before them.
Sora shrugged. "Sure, that was cool, but at the end of the day it's just elemental magic. Almost anyone can do that. But I've never seen anyone turn into a bird before!" He paused. "…Well, Donald did that one time, but he's already a bird, so it doesn't really count."
"I'm afraid elemental magic of that kind is rather rare in the Realms, Sora," Mimir spoke up. "And even then, I can't think of anyone that controls water to such a destructive degree—or at all. Not since Njörd, Aegir and Rán and a few of their children, at any rate." He looked up at Father. "What of you, Brother?"
"As you said, not in these lands." His voice was stiff, tone curt. As it usually was when referring to his homeland. Atreus wondered if he'd faced one of these potential people in battle. His father placed his axe on his back, walking forward. He eyed the now drying ground, before stomping forward. "Come," he said, and Atreus and Sora followed.
Sora looked at Atreus with a grin. "Seriously, it's really cool that you can turn into a bird."
Atreus puffed his chest out a bit at the sheer awe in Sora's voice. "I can turn into other animals too."
"No way!" Sora gaped. "That's so cool! And you can do it whenever you want?"
"Mostly." He still had a hard time turning into a bear outside of stressful situations. He'd spoken to Angrboda and Mimir about it, and they theorized that, since the first time he turned into a bear was in grief, and he was then forcibly knocked out of it by his father after a grueling fight, there was a sort of mental block on the form. Which was fine by him—useful as it was, he'd hurt people he loved as a bear.
Sora looked up to the sky with a wistful smile. "Man, I'm jealous! I only transformed into an animal once, and that was thanks to Donald's magic."
"What did you turn into?"
"A lion."
Atreus frowned. "A lion? What's—oh, wait. Those are those big cats, right?"
"Yup! I was only ever a cub, though. Something about human ages compared to animal ages." He crossed his arms with an exaggerated frown. "I think Donald was just having a laugh."
"Who's Donald?" Atreus asked.
Sora's expression softened into a sort of melancholy. "One of my best friends."
"And he's a…bird?"
"Well, not like you're probably thinking." He pulled out his Gummiphone and tapped it a few times. Then, he held it out in front of Atreus. "Say hello to Donald Duck. And Goofy too—one of my other best friends."
Atreus goggled at the sight of a child-sized duck with human-like arms instead of wings, wearing blue robes and a strange blue hat, standing back-to-back with some sort of tall dog-like creature, which stood on two legs, wore a shirt, vest, hat, pants and shoes, and, like the duck, had very human-like arms.
"That's a duck."
"Donald Duck, yes."
"And a…dog?"
"Yup!"
"And they're wearing clothes."
Sora arched a brow at him. "Yeah, of course."
"And they can talk?"
"I don't get what's so weird about this—we just saw a talking squirrel that wears clothes."
Atreus held his hands out. "But there's only one being like Ratatoskr in all the Realms. Animals that can walk and talk like people aren't normal."
"Many different worlds host many different beings, Atreus," his father said without looking over his shoulder.
Atreus scoffed. "So, what, you've seen animals that can walk and talk like people?"
"From other worlds, yes."
The quick reply stopped his short. "You're serious?" His father stopped and slowly looked over his shoulder. "Right, almost forgot who I was talking to."
"You know, Brother." Mimir drawled from his father's hip. "One of these days I'm going to sit you down and wheedle all this knowledge of other worlds out of you."
"You can try."
/+/+/+/+/
They came across a few more Dragur during their travel through Muspelheim, but none in as great numbers as the first batch. Between the Atreus, his father, and Sora, they weren't any trouble.
"Take this!" Sora shouted as he leapt into the air and slammed his weapon down on the latest Dragur that tried to harm them. The undead creature fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes and crumbled to cinders.
"Notice you haven't pulled out that giant whirlpool again," Atreus remarked as Sora dismissed his weapon.
Sora shrugged. "Haven't had the chance to build up to it. I need to gather up energy to cast Grand Magic like that, you know?"
"Kind of," Atreus replied. His transformations worked under that principle when he first unlocked the ability, but he'd trained himself out of it. His father's weapons had similar properties, though. But even if his father were the kind of man to make small talk about that sort of thing, he wasn't going to interrupt him when they were so close to Surtr's former forge, and the Spark of the World.
They walked forward in silence, before coming to a stop at a sheer cliff. There, just above them, was the forge. Thankfully, there were a lot of outcrops they could use to climb up it.
"So, just up there, huh?" Sora asked. When Father nodded, Sora took a few steps back.
Mimir hummed. "Looking for a running start?"
"Of course!" Sora replied. He dashed forward and kicked up the wall. Followed by another kick. And another, and another, and another—
"Am I seeing things or is he just running up the wall?" Atreus asked, not quite as nonplussed as he might have been earlier.
"You are not," his father replied. When Mimir let out an inquisitive grunt, Father held him up to see Sora.
"Well, that's something," he said as Sora disappeared over the cliff's ridge.
Sora popped his head over seconds later. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
"He knows we can't do that, right?" Atreus asked as he started to climb the cliff. His father said nothing.
They climbed up easily enough and found Sora sitting at the other end of the cliff, staring out at Muspelheim's fiery landscape. "Yeesh, this place makes the Underworld look cheery."
Father stilled. He took a deep breath, and though it clearly pained him, he asked, "You speak of the god Hades's realm?"
"Yeah," Sora rose to his feet. "You know a version of the H-ster?"
"'H-ster?'" Father incredulously repeated. He shook his head. "Yes, I knew the Lord of the Dead."
Sora frowned. "I don't like that you're using the past tense, but it can wait 'till later." He looked around. "Where's this Spark of the World?"
Atreus stepped up, pointing across the cliff and to a cave entrance. "Right through there." But something about the cave made him pause. He stepped closer. Inside the cave, there were large, clear, crystal-like objects "Hey, what's that?"
Sora peered at crystals. "Is…Is that ice?" They all stepped closer and were suddenly hit by an impossible wave of cold air. Sora hugged himself and shivered. "Guess so."
"But we're in Muspelheim!" Atreus said. "How can there be ice here?"
Mimir replied, "Well, Surtr said the Spark of the World also connects to Niflheim, right? Perhaps a bit of Niflheim is leaking in the wake of this realm's rather violent changes."
"If so, the question becomes how much of Niflheim is 'leaking in'," Father said, pulling out his blades.
"Give me a second," Sora spoke up. He took off his fire-red jewelry and pin and replaced them with icey-blue ones—a snowflake chain, a black choker with snowflakes spread out on it, and a pin with a weird looking snowman on it. "Okay, let's go."
"Any chance you can spare one of those?" Atreus asked. Their armor would protect them against all sorts of magical attacks, but this set was specifically made for fire-based ones.
"Oh, sure!" Sora said with a smile. He reached into his pockets and pulled out another choker, less ornate than the one he wore, and gave it to Atreus. He held out another choker to Father, who stared down at the accessory. "Er…might not have anything that can fit you."
"I shall be fine," he replied. "But thank you." He pulled his Blades of Chaos off his back and led the way forward.
The further in they went the more ice there was. Frost lined the entirety of the cave. It didn't feel like he was walking into Niflheim. It felt like he was back in the middle of Fimbulwinter.
"Does anyone else hear that?" Mimir spoke up after a few minutes of silence. "It sounds like…crying?"
Sora cocked his head to the side. "…Hey, I can hear it too!"
Suddenly, Father stopped. "…I know the source of this cold." He strapped his blades onto his back. "We must leave."
"What?" Sora cried. He stepped in front of Father. "But there's someone in trouble. And we're almost there!"
Father held up a hand. "I understand your frustrations, but we cannot continue."
"Why?" Sora asked with a heavy frown
"I shall explain once we are back in Midgard." Sora's frown deepened, before he sighed.
"Fine!" he said. "But it better be good." Father nodded, and let Sora walk past him.
Atreus stepped closer to his father and whispered. "Why are we turning back?"
His father leaned down and whispered back. "Sinmara." And at once Atreus understood.
He'd never met the Jötunn—perhaps the only living frost giant left—but he'd heard from his father and Freya that her grief over Surtr's death could be heard all throughout Niflheim, even after all this time.
Father had said, commanded, really, that no one seek her out or otherwise bother her. It didn't sit right with Atreus, but Surtr's dying wish had been to leave her alone.
When they made it back outside, Sora slumped over against a rock with a bitter frown. "Well, this was a waste of time." He hugged his knees to his chest. "I'll never get back, at this rate." Atreus looked down at him sympathetically, and even Father's stone-like features softened.
Atreus crouched down beside Sora. "I'm sorry, but Father's right, we can't be there right now. But we'll come back!"
"When?" Sora asked. Atreus looked helplessly up at his father, who hummed in thought.
It was then that Mimir spoke up. "Frankly, lad, we can't rightly say. But we'll figure something out. I'm sure Lady Freya can—hah!" Mimir cut off with a shiver. "Did anyone else just feel like their soul froze over?"
"I felt it as well," Father replied, slowly turning back to the entrance of the cave. It took a moment, but Atreus felt the greater chill they spoke of—Sora's choker worked wonders, it would seem. Seconds later, he heard footsteps running against the stone.
Then, a woman appeared in front of them. She was tall, her body and dress looked as if it had been sculped from ice, soft yet brittle, hair flowing from her head like fresh icicles. Her eyes were solid blue, and they glowed with power. And right in the middle of her chest was a melted hole, letting them see the beating, fiery heart that beat within it.
Sinmara stared at them with tears flowing down her cheeks, voice alight with hope. "Surtr!" she cried. But her hope vanished into confusion as she took in the three of them. "Wha—you're not—But I felt…" she trailed off.
Father slowly shook his head. "Pay us no mind, we shall be on our way." He turned around, gesturing for Atreus and Sora to follow.
"No," Sinmara said. And then everything went wrong.
It was out of the corner of his eyes, but he could see Sinmara wave her hand—calmly, without a care like Surtr had once—and a blizzard spawned in front of her.
"I knew this would happen!" Sora cried as he was swept up by the sudden gusts and blown away. Atreus would have followed him, had his father not grabbed his arm and summoned a Draupnir spear, planting the weapon blade-first into the ground to keep from moving. Well, only Atreus was in danger of that, his father's feet were trapped in solid blocks of ice. And it slowly grew up his legs.
"Brother, I don't want to alarm you, but I—mmph!" Mimir called out as Father's waist, and the talking head attached to it, were covered in ice.
The winds grew stronger, and Atreus could feel himself slipping from his father's grip. "Father!" he cried. That moment, he saw dull crimson flames come to life over his father's body. With a mighty bellow, a wave of fire and godly energy burst out from his father's body, shattering the ice around him.
He pulled Atreus closer, and handed him Mimir, who's teeth were chattering. "Take Mimir and get to safety."
"What? And leave you to face her alone?!"
"Primordial beings are not foes easily fought!" He father replied calmly, even as frost clung to his body. "I am the only one she is keeping in place, and I believe I know why. Go, now!" With a mighty heave, his father hurled him away.
Atreus screamed as he flailed in the air. He tried to transform into a bird, but between the sheer cold of the blizzard howling around him and fear of dropping Mimir, he couldn't get a hold of the magic.
Finally, he cleared the magical storm, the unnatural heat of Muspelheim melting whatever ice had clung to his body. He'd started to fall, and it wasn't going to be a very happy landing. "Hold on!" he said to Mimir as he grabbed the head's rope with his teeth and curled inward.
"To what?!"
Atreus ignored the outburst, calling on his magic and began changing shape. He needed something bulky enough to take the landing. Bulky. Bulky…That's it!
Atreus recalled an animal he'd seen a lot of travelling south from Midgard, and that had almost killed him in a fight closer than he cared to admit. His body changed, growing larger heavier, his limbs shifting into short, hooved feet. The worst part was his face—it elongated and fattened at once, his teeth sinking into his gums and reappearing as gnashing molars and sharp tusks.
For what he was sure the first time ever, a Hippopotamus crashed down in Muspelheim. The impact jolted him even through his magically transformed flesh, but however sore he felt, it was better than simply landing in his normal form.
With a low bellow, Atreus changed back into his human form. He spat out Mimir's rope, the talking head landing on his side. "Ugh, gonna feel that in the morning."
"I'd imagine," Mimir replied. His eyes darted around. "Where's Sora?"
"Atreus, Mimir!" the man himself called out from above. Atreus turned to see him slide down a rockface. Aside from soot all over his furs, he was none the worse for wear. "I'm glad you're alright!" He looked around. "Where's your dad?"
Atreus grimaced and pointed to the blizzard. "Still in there."
"Why?"
"He wanted to talk to Sinmara—the lady that cause the blizzard," he added at Sora's quirked-up brow.
"…Again, why?"
"Long story." Atreus rose to his feet and picked up Mimir. He walked over to the edge of the cliff, peering at the winter storm below. "Hey, I think it's clearing up." It did clear up seconds later, to reveal his father trapped in a series of very sharp icicles, Sinmara looming over him.
"Quite the mess he's gotten caught up in," Mimir muttered.
Atreus looked over to Sora. "You know fire magic, right?"
Sora scratched his chin with a frown. "Yeah, but I don't think my standard spells are strong enough to do anything to her—well, not without fighting her for a bit, and I don't want to leave your dad hanging." He snapped his fingers. "Wait, you have those, uh, ziggy arrows, right?"
"Sigil," Atreus corrected, a smile growing on his face as he followed Sora's line of thought.
/+/+/+/+/
"What? And leave you to face her alone?!" his son cried in alarm.
"Primordial beings are not foes easily fought!" Kratos shouted over the storm at his son. He was only ever able to slay the Titans in Greece with the Blade of Olympus and a host of other divine powers. Besides, this was one being he had no desire to kill. "I am the only one she is keeping in place, and I believe I know why. Go, now!" With a mighty heave, Kratos hurled his son away. It was something of a blind throw, in truth, but he trusted his son to land safely.
He drew his arms in and burst them out with a harsh yell, destroying the ice that started to build on him once again. He pulled out the Blades of Chaos and spun both blades in tight circles. They sparked, before becoming enveloped in roaring flames. His Spartan Rage had depleted at that point, but the primordial flames of the Blades of Chaos did more than enough to stave off the unearthly chill surrounding him.
Until sharp icicles sprouted up from the ground, cutting into his flesh and halting his movements.
The blades slowly came to a stop, the biting winds returning at their fire died. Sinmara stepped through the swirling snow like a specter rising from the Underworld; ethereal, and beyond one's comprehension.
Kratos's flesh began to freeze, and though his rage was building, it was not yet enough to safely break through his momentary prison. At the same time, he did not want to give Sinmara reason to truly harm him. He could only hope she was willing to listen.
She came to a stop just before him, staring down at the Blades of Chaos. Gently, with tears in her eyes, she picked them both up. She brought them close to her fiery heart, and without any warning or direction, flames sprouted up from the blades.
"These are Surtr's flames," she said, holding the blades close to her open chest, head bent down as her tears flowed freely. "These blades hold his fire." Her voice trembled with grief. "His warmth." She darted her head up, face set into a fierce glare. "How did you get them?!" she hissed, the blizzard intensifying around them.
Kratos took a short breath. "Surtr bestowed them to me."
"Liar!" Sinmara shouted. Kratos felt icicles form on his beard
"It is the truth!" he declared.
"Why would he do that, then?" Sinmara sneered. "Surtr's flames are a precious thing. By what right did you receive them?!"
Kratos hesitated. How far was he willing to go, to keep his vow to Surtr? Keeping away from Sinmara—not telling her the truth of his actions—was his only wish in exchange for bringing forth Ragnarök and laying waste to Asgard.
In the end, as much as it pained him, he opted to speak the truth. Surtr may curse him, wherever he ended up; but on top of desiring to live, keeping the woman Surtr loved so fiercely, and who fiercely loved him in return, in the dark left a bad taste in Kratos's mouth. It reminded him too much of Faye and her actions towards him and Atreus, regardless of her intentions.
"Surtr granted me the flames, so that I would use the blades to pierce your heart within his chest and summon Ragnarök."
The storm vanished in an instant, the heat of Muspelheim returning and melting all but the icicles keeping him in place.
Sinmara let the blades go and stared at Kratos in disbelief. "You lie," she stated, voice little more than a whisper.
Kratos sadly shook his head. "You felt his demise, I know you did. Why deny my words?"
"Because he wouldn't do that!" Sinmara bellowed, a gust of frigid air blasting Kratos. "He couldn't have formed Ragnarök on his own. We were meant to join together, one last time." She placed her hands over Surtr's heart, a shudder running through her body "H-He died, but he had to be tricked into doing so!"
"It was his own decision," Kratos softly stated.
Sinmara bared down on him in an instance. "He wouldn't leave me!" she cried. "Not like that." She had a manic look in her eyes. Manic and full of hate. "You tricked him. Took him away from me!" Kratos braced himself—she would not listen to reason.
Indeed, she said nothing else, merely stepping back and raising her arm. A large blade of ice formed above her head; the tip aimed straight for Kratos's throat. But, before either could make a move, three arrows flew through the air and sunk into Sinmara's side, a large purple sigil forming over the wounds.
The frost giant didn't feel any pain from the projectiles, but she did stare down at them.
"Fire!"
Seconds after the cry, a massive ball of flames zoomed down and crashed against the sigil on Sinmara's body. What followed next was a blinding, deafening explosion that knocked both Sinmara and Kratos off their feet, the former flying off a cliff.
"Kratos, hold on!" Sora's voice pierced through the ringing in his ears. "Heal!" There was a flash of green light, and Kratos could see and hear at full capacity in an instant. Sora stood beside him, his left hand outstretched, his right gripping a different Keyblade than before. It was some sort of blinking structure with silver cutlery and a strange white hat making up the tip a…rodent wearing a similar hat where the teeth would be?
When Kratos imagined the mythical Keyblades—weapons of mass destruction beyond his wildest dreams—this was not what he'd imagined one would look like.
He accepted the hand and quickly rose to his feet—he saw Atrues and Mimir on a rock formation far off. Sora entered a defensive stance—crouched low, both hands on the hilt of his blade—and glared at the cliff Sinmara had been thrown off. "Ready?" he asked.
"We will not fight her," Kratos replied, dashing for the cliff facing Tyr's temple and leaping down the wall. He saw Atreus stall, but quickly start running in the same direction
"What?!" Sora easily caught up and slid down the wall beside him. "Why?"
"I swore that I would not see her come to harm," Kratos replied. He landed on solid ground with a soft grunt and broke out into a sprint.
At that moment, a blizzard broke out behind them, followed by a harsh, hateful scream.
"Doesn't look like she feels the same way!" Sora called out, keeping pace with Kratos. He gasped—"Watch out!"—and shoved Kratos aside, breaking away just before a jagged ball of ice missed them both. Kratos took a brief look back, and quickly increased his pace at the hailstorm of boulder-sized balls of ice formed in the air.
When they began to fall, Kratos whirled around to a stop, summoned his Guardian Shield and a Draupnir Spear, and braced against the ground. But before the ice boulders could reach him, Sora leapt high into the air and batted the projectiles aside with a swing of his weapon. "Keep moving!" Sora called as he landed. "I'll cover us." Kratos recalled his weapons with a nod and ran forward once more.
Dragur popped up from the ground, but they paid them no heed in their flight from Sinmara and her storm. Indeed, the creatures froze and shattered the instant the met the frigid gales.
"Father!" Atreus shouted as he landed beside them just outside the temple. "What are we going to do?"
"We return to Midgard!"
"And then what?" Sora asked, throwing his Keyblade and shattering two boulders before calling the weapon back to his hands. Kratos didn't answer.
Mimir picked up the slack. "Sinmara's very being is tied to Niflheim, as Surtr's was to Muspelheim," he said from Atreus's hip. "While I'm sure bearing her lover's heart allows her entry to this realm, she can't so easily enter another. Not without growing drastically weaker."
"You're sure?" Kratos asked.
"Not in the slightest," Mimir admitted without a hint of shame. "But a man can dream, no?" Kratos, despite their harrowing situation, chuckled.
"In any case," he said. "We must warn the others." He got his hands on the door to the temple."
Only for a soft, venomous voice to whisper into his ear, "No."
A blizzard erupted around them, the winds blasting them away—Sora and Atreus into the large braziers behind them, and Kratos into the door. He collected himself, but sharp icicles burst out from the ground and pierced his legs and side, keeping him in place. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sinmara form from ice and snow, face set into a deep glare.
"Did you think yourselves clever?" she hissed. "Do you think you can escape me?" She reached a hand up, trailing Kratos's body before stopping at his sternum. Frost and ice formed where her she touched him, slowly sinking through his skin and freezing his muscles, despite his godly healing abilities. "You will freeze, icicles piercing your heart just as your blades pierced mine."
"Fire!" Sora's voice cut through the storm, a ball of flams crashing against Sinmara's back. She roared in pain as intense heat washed over them both and whirled around. Only to pause, her magical blizzard vanishing in an instant, at the sight of Sora—no, at the sight of his Keyblade.
"T-That's a—agh!" whatever she had to say was cut off into a pained scream as a large Ibex, Mimir dangling from its teeth, charged her from the left, catching her with its horns and lifting her in the air.
At that moment, Kratos called on his Spartan Rage and broke through Sinmara's icicles. He leapt forward with a mighty roar and grabbed Sinmara by the arms and hurled her away from the temple.
She landed on her feet, but by then Kratos had wrenched open the doors, and was urging Sora and the still transformed Atreus inside. Sinmara stepped forward—her eyes never leaving Sora—but he stopped her by pointing his Keyblade into the air and summoning a whirlwind in front of her. Still, she did not look alarmed, or even angry. No, she was almost terrifyingly calm.
Still, Kratos entered the temple only after Sora had run in.
They ran for the portal to Midgard and crossed it to find Mimir and Atreus frantically relaying their tale to Freya and the others.
"Unbelievable!" Freya cursed when she saw Kratos. "I let you go for less than an hour and you have one of the strongest beings left in the realms screaming for your head?"
"Not now!" Kratos bellowed, turning back to the Muspelheim gate. It was only a matter of time before Sinmara crossed into Midgard. He hoped Mimir was right.
"Guys!" Sora called out. "What's that other realm that connects to Muspelheim?"
"Niflheim," Mimir replied. "But I fail to see how that's relevant to the current situation!"
"Which portal?" Sora asked, frantically looking around.
"The greenish one to your left, but again, how is that relevant?
Sora didn't respond. Instead, he held up his Keyblade and pointed it at the Muspelheim door. A light, bell-like chime sounded from everywhere and nowhere, and two things happened at once. The tip of the Keyblade glowed white, thin strands of energy gathering around it in a loose circle, and small orbs of light sparked to life in front of the Muspelheim gate and formed the outline of a keyhole. A beam of light shot out from the Keyblade, impacting the keyhole. There was a loud click, and then the keyhole, and the portal to Muspelheim, vanished in seconds.
Everyone stared on as Sora repeated the actions on the Niflheim portal. When done, Sora turned back to them with a smile. "There we go!" He then frowned. "…Why are you all looking at me like that?"
Freya recovered first. "It's just…interesting to see that your, uh, Keyblade, isn't just for show."
Sora chuckled as he dismissed his weapon. "Yeah, it's pretty great." He opened his mouth to say more, but a slight tremor rocked the earth. Followed immediately by a much larger, more violent tremor. Kratos reached out to help both Atreus and Freya keep on their feet, but the tremors did not stop. When they reached their crescendo, the copy of the World Tree in the center of the room shuddered violently, its branches convulsing as it glowed a dark red.
Then, it all stopped.
Sora, who'd fall on his stomach, rose with a concerned frown. "Uh…is that normal, here?"
Before anyone could reply that, no, that was not normal, a high-pitched screech came from above.
"You monster!" Ratatoskr screamed, dropping down from nowhere onto Sora's head.
"Agh, hey, get off!" Sora exclaimed, pulling at the overgrown squirrel as it pulled on his hair. Finally, he wrenched Ratatoskr free, and hurled him away, into Tyr, as it were. The tall god caught the keeper of the world tree and struggled to keep his grip at the squirrel struggled to get free, claws slashing the air.
"Ratatoskr!" Tyr cried in alarm. "Whatever is the matter?"
The squirrel chittered in rage for a long moment before speaking in words they could understand. "The matter is that that monster"—he clawed at Sora—"has just closed off Niflheim and Muspelheim from Yggdrasil!"
His words struck a horrified cord in each of them. Mimir spoke in a frightened tone. "Ratatoskr…what are you saying?"
"I am saying that that Keyblade Wielder has just cut off two branched of the World Tree!"
Now even Sora grew alarmed, turning back to stare at the two portals he'd closed. "Uh…oops?"
/+/+/+/+/
A/N: Sora did an error.