The World of Dream Drops

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.

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Atreus stared at Sora as he flew in wide circles around the canoe on his transformed Keyblade, his friend's face split into a wide grin. "Gotta admit," Atreus said, "that looks fun."

"At the very least it's an interesting way to travel," Mimir remarked. "Never seen anything like it." He shifted his gaze to father. "Kratos?" he said with an expectant lilt.

Father rolled his eyes. "I have not seen anything like that either." He visibly steeled himself. "But…it does remind me of a…skateboard."

Mimir had the grace to not grin too widely. "And what, my friend, is a 'skateboard'?"

"A mortal invention, both a toy and a mode of limited transportation." Father grunted. "Thought like many items, it could also be used as a weapon."

"Of course, that's what would interest you," Mimir teased. "Used one to crack peoples' heads open, then?"

"No," Father replied. "Though Parappa wielded one skillfully during our battles together."

"Oh!" Mimir gasped. "Are you finally going to tell the tale of your battles with History's Greatest Musician?!"

"Only if you will remain calm."

"I can make no such promise!"

Father grunted in part amusement, part exasperation. "As I previously mentioned, I met Parappa during the time the Titans of Greece tore open a hole from our World to another using their Primordial magics."

"To what end?" Atreus asked.

"To prove myself worthy of leading them into battle against Olympus."

The mood dropped a touch at the blunt reminder of his father's bloody past. Atreus gulped. "Well…that's a bit excessive, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Father agreed. "Gaia herself had no issue joining forces, but her sibling Titans were upset at the notion of battling beside a son of Zeus, regardless of our shared desire to kill him." He hummed. "They required proof of my strength and sent me to another World to ravage it. I agreed." Atreus's blood ran cold at the admission. He knew his father had once been…the worst kind of god. But hearing it outright…

"And your prior deeds as God of War didn't appease them?" Mimir queried.

"They did not." Father tilted his head up to the sky. "Gaia herself admitted to only ever considering me a pawn in 'her' war with Olympus, yet also claimed to have never sought my death. I have questioned her words and motives many times over the years."

Mimir hummed. "Perhaps the other Titans wanted to kill you outright, but Gaia convinced them otherwise? Tried to at least give you the chance to return?"

"It would make sense," Father replied. "Upon my return to this world, she was the only one to congratulate me on my return and commend me on my battle with the Polygon Man and his forces. Those that they witnessed, at least."

"…The who now?"

Father grunted. "The Polygon Man. A powerful creature, formed out of purple crystals the mimicked a man's face. He was capable of reaching through the barriers between Worlds and pulling locations and people from them to his own realm."

Mimir gaped. "My word…I can't even begin to fathom how much power such a being could wield to be capable of that."

"His power was immense," Father said. "He was easily the most powerful being I have ever come across."

"Greater than Ragnarök?" Atreus asked in wonder. Just being near that creature made Atreus feel like a maggot writhing in the dirt. And when it nearly killed them all with its blade—if it hadn't been for Freyr and his magical sword Ingrid coming to their defense, Atreus wasn't sure he'd have been able to even move.

"Much greater," Father intoned. "Ragnarök could destroy an entire Realm, yes, but at the cost of its own life. The Polygon Man would have been capable of not only that, without losing his own life, but could go on to destroy all the Realms. And would have been able to restructure the broken Realms in whatever manner he wished." His face hardened. "Within his home World, he had no limits. No scruples."

"Then how'd you kill him?" Atreus asked as he leaned forward. "From what you're saying, the Polygon Man should have been able to squish you like a bug?"

"We were lucky." Father sighed. "For all his immense power, the Polygon Man had the mentality of a child. He could breach the barriers between Worlds, yes, but only to copy or otherwise steal from them. He gathered various beings and creatures to his personal World, copied our forms and abilities and used them to craft his own personal army, but only set us all against each other and them in a macabre tournament for his amusement. He did not venture too far outside of his own personal domain, content to amuse himself with his 'sandbox' as he called it." It was subtle—if Atreus wasn't looking, he might have missed it—but his father's hands trembled as he rowed the canoe. "The only reason I am here before you now, is because the Polygon Man was too arrogant to consider the fact that he might lose against us, and by the time he realized his folly, it was too late."

"Wow, sounds like this Polygon Man was really dangerous."

"Woah!" Atreus jolted in his seat. He was so enraptured in his father's tale; he hadn't noticed Sora had floated up beside them. "We've gotta put a bell on you!"

"Sorry," Sora said with a sheepish grin. After Atreus settled back down, Sora turned to Father. "This Polygon Man guy is dead, though?"

"Yes," Father replied. "I witnessed his destruction myself."

"Witnessed?" Atreus asked. "You didn't kill him yourself?"

"I did not have the opportunity. My part in the plan to eliminate the Polygon Man did not allow it."

"Didn't allow it?" Mimir repeated, incredulous. "Forgive me brother, but the stories of your past tell of a belligerent boar of a man that did whatever he wanted, damn anyone that tried to tell him otherwise. What could have possibly stopped you?"

Father stopped rowing, his expression growing almost wistful. "While there were many victims of the Polygon Man's plot, only a handful of us retained our autonomy. The others were little more than toys to be directed at his discretion. Among the 'free' victims were two truly curious beings. The turtle I mentioned before, Bentley, and a small, silver automaton, named Clank."

"Automaton? That's a Greek word, isn't it?" Mimir asked. "Refers to some sort of pseudo-living being made of metal, right?"

Father nodded. "The automatons were originally the creations of the forge god, Hephaestus. Simple creatures, built for specific tasks and objectives. The most famous was a massive bronze creation known as Talos, that accosted many an ancient warrior before Jason and his Argonauts defeated it. Zeus, in anticipation of our pending conflict, commissioned inferior copies of the original Talos for the purpose of killing me."

"Clank was a much smaller, vastly more advanced creation. And highly intelligent. He, along with Bentley, complied the information we all had individually gathered to formulate a series of precise assaults on the Polygon Man's realm to gather the necessary tools to defeat him and free us all from his grasp." Father started rowing once more. "The final plan relied heavily upon Parappa."

"How?" Sora asked with a frown. "Did he have some sort of magic song that could do a lot of damage?"

"Did he just smack the Polygon Man with his skateboard-thing?" Atreus asked with a grin.

"No." Father chuckled. "The Polygon Man, you must understand, sought entertainment above all else. Everything he did, every item or place or person he created or stole, was done for the sole purpose to amuse himself. This desire extended to his defense systems."

"Wha—"

"Quiet!" Mimir shushed Sora. "Can't you see he's getting to the good part?"

Father grunted. "When I landed within the Polygon Man's realm, I—along with Parappa, Spike, Sackboy"—Father's voice gained a fond inflection—"Mr. Bubbles and Sally"—and quickly dropped down to a venomous snarl—"and Sweet Tooth—we all landed near what we eventually discovered was the source of the Polygon Man's power. A series of crystals that directly tied him to his personal World and the Primordial energies within." Atreus had a great many questions, as did Mimir and Sora.

Father didn't give them the chance to ask any—a good call, Mimir might have never stopped. "The defenses surrounding the crystals—and indeed, throughout the realm—to our eyes, were erratic, without pattern or reason. But not to Parappa." Father smirked. "He determined that there was, in fact, a pattern to them, to all that occurred in the Polygon Man's realm. A sort of 'beat', as he described it, that he was able to map out.

"Is that what earned him the moniker, then?" Mimir asked. "Wait, no, that doesn't make sense. Having a sense of timing and rhythm doesn't get you called History's Greatest Musician."

Father grunted. "It would not. You say that Kvasir was the source of such a title?" Mimir nodded. "Then it was his own decision to refer to Parappa as such. An erroneous one, I believe."

"Really?" Sora asked. "Was Parappa a bad singer?"

Father was silent for a moment. "I cannot say," he eventually admitted. "But I personally did not care for his 'rap' music."

"Rap?" Atreus repeated with an arched brow. "Like, to hit something?" He looked over to Sora and Mimir. The former shrugged, and the latter frowned.

"I do not know the origins of the word," Father replied. "All I know is that it is a form of poetry accompanied by music." He sniffed. "The lyrics Parappa employed were…fine, if simplistic, but his choice of musical accompaniment was unappealing to my ears. I was not alone in my assessment, but as many were fond, or neutral, towards it."

"Well"—Mimir began—"I for one would like to hear this 'rap' music for myself! Form my own opinion as to the veracity of Kvasir's claim."

"You will have to wait a long time," Father replied. "Either for a means to travel to a World that has developed rap music, or for the mortals of this world to eventually create it themselves."

"Come again?" Mimir asked.

"Should the mortals of this World be allowed to grow unmolested, there's little doubt in my mind that they shall develop rap music of their own," Father said with an odd sense of confidence.

Atreus narrowed his eyes. "Where's this certainty coming from?"

"Do you recall what Sora said last night? Of many Worlds following a sort of baking mold?" They nodded. "Many of those I met in in the Polygon Man's realm came from worlds whose pasts are remarkably similar to our present, and, by inference, their presents can inform our futures." Father grunted. "Two of the Worlds I personally travelled to were also from a further point in time than this one."

"Now that's a fascinating concept!" Mimir gushed. "Worlds parallel yet out of synch with our own! Why, just think of the things we would learn! Advancements made with fewer missteps; mistakes avoided altogether."

Atreus pursed his lips. "I don't know, Mimir. Sounds like it's got the same pitfalls that prophecy does, you know? Get so focused on some idealized image that you ignore the dangers surrounding it. And what about people? Sora knows different versions of the gods of this World's Greece, and, well, their version of Father hasn't been born yet."

"If a version of myself even exists," Father added. "Other Worlds that bore nations and gods of Greece did not, to my knowledge, have a version of myself who, at the very least, usurped Ares."

"That makes my head hurt," Atreus replied. What did that say for him? "But my point is, if we meet a version of Father out there—or me, you, Odin, Freya, anyone—before, you know, certain events, do we stop them? Interfere where we clearly shouldn't, or allow some potential future to influence how to react to events, or treat people?" He shrugged. "And who's to say what's actually 'right'? Odin thought his way was the only way and forced everyone else along because of it. I mean, wars have started over less. Can you imagine what kind of conflict would start if two Worlds that have fundamentally different values and beliefs were to cross paths?"

Mimir frowned, bashful. "I see your point, lad. I suppose the excitement of it all overtook me. Perhaps it would be safer to just stay away from each other."

"And that's the basic reasoning behind the World Order," Sora cut in. He shifted on his transformed Keyblade, so he was sitting down as he looked at them. "Knowing about other Worlds…it's a heavy burden." He pressed a fist against his chest. "I can't speak for others, but a Keyblade Wielder is only supposed to interfere when creatures like the Heartless—things that can't be damaged or destroyed by normal means—are hurting people. We're not supposed to just force our own beliefs and wishes on a World and its people." He snorted and looked down at his hands with a bittersweet smile. "Not that I always practice what I preach. I barged onto a trial in Wonderland—the very first World I freely travelled to—because I thought it was a sham. I got really lucky that not only was Alice, the girl put on trial, a Princess of Heart, but also that the Heartless were responsible for the crime she was accused of. But sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if that wasn't the case…Donald, certainly, would have kept me from interfering, and maybe Goofy too."

He sighed. "You know, eventually, I believe that there's gonna be a time where I don't have to travel to different Worlds looking for monsters to fight—I hope, at least. But I ask myself, if I see something that I think is wrong, could I just stand by and watch it happen? Without the excuse of a Heartless to fight, do I have the right to just…force things to go the way I want? Is it really better to ignore it and let things just work themselves out, when I have the ability to stop it?"

Silence followed his question. Father, of all people, broke it. He said, "I do not believe any of us can say, Sora. But that you are asking these questions proves that you are worthy of the responsibility." Sora smiled brightly. Father's smile in turn was much smaller, but no less genuine.

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Father jerked his head forward. "We are here," he said. Atreus turned around, and lo and behold, the Lyngbakr was floating in the bay.

He felt Mimir tremble beside him as Sora leaned forward on his transformed Keyblade and shot ahead of them towards the sea creature's head. "Turn me around lad," Mimir said. Atreus did so. The talking head let loose a trembling breath. "…I don't know if it's a good or bad thing that this never get any easier."

"The fact that you are willing to face the consequences of your past actions and do your best to address and atone for them speaks volumes," Father replied. There was an odd undercurrent to his words. Admiration and something else…Shame? Envy? Atreus had noticed it whenever they were all together to meet the Lyngbakr, but he'd never mustered up the courage to ask, knowing that his father disliked to speak of his past, to put it lightly.

But…he was being more open, now…Something to think about.

They caught up to Sora, who was hovering beside the Lynbakr's dull, open eye. He pressed up against the creature, eyes closed and breath steady. "He has a lot of Hurt," Sora said after a moment.

"No thanks to me," Mimir bemoaned. None of them bothered to assuage him—he was right, in the end. And no amount of comforting words could erase that fact.

Sora stepped away from the Lyngbakr, and Atreus leaned forward on the canoe to rub around its eye. The creature's thoughts, like other abused animals and beasts he'd met during his travels, were incoherent streams of images and emotions, even years after being free. It had been torn from other Lyngbakr so long ago, it never developed a true form of 'speech', and he doubted it would ever learn. But there was, at least, a steady undercurrent of content. At the very least, it realized that it no longer had chains dragging it down.

"What's with all those platforms on its body?" Sora asked.

Mimir sniffed. "Remnants of the…tools for oil extraction. They've long since fused with the poor thing's skin. Tearing them out would just cause it more suffering." Sora's face twisted in disgust.

"That's awful," he whispered. "H-How could anyone do such a thing?"

"Greed and a callous disregard for life," Mimir spat. Sora's expression hardened, but then he sighed and leaned against the Lyngbakr once more.

Mimir continued in a soft, bitter tone. "I've done everything I could think of to try and atone for the torture I've inflicted on this poor thing. But no matter what I do, nothing works! Atreus, Freya, and even Tyr tell me that its at least grateful for the wind flowing against its face, and the freedom from its chains, but even years later it's as if it's still stuck in its previously nightmarish life of slavery!"

Atreus frowned and reached over to gently pat his friend on the head. Father wore a more critical gaze. Given his own experiences with chains and slavery to gods, he was always less…comforting to Mimir.

"Nightmare, huh?" Sora slowly repeated. "I wonder…" Before anyone could question him, Sora leapt high into the air, his Keyblade vanishing into a series of light green cubes. He landed atop the Lyngbakr's head but didn't call down for them or anything.

Atreus turned to his father. "Should we…follow him?"

"…Yes," Father eventually replied. With that, Atreus sat back down, and Father rowed them to the nearest platform.

"I wonder what got into him?" Mimir said. "What about the word 'nightmare' that set him off?"

"Maybe Sora knows some kind spell that can alleviate or otherwise heal someone's mental state?" Atreus supplied.

"If that's the case, I can think of a fair few individuals that would have paid an arm and a leg for access to such a technique," Mimir remarked.

"I would have once toppled kingdoms for such a thing," Father solemnly stated as they docked.

"…You know we're here, right?" Atreus said as he handed Mimir to his father and climbed onto the Lyngbakr. "If you ever want to talk about…your past." Father just gave him a look—a piercing gaze that relayed just how old and tired his father truly was.

They travelled in silence after that.

Finally, they reached the Lyngbakr's head, where Sora stood, head bent down, his Kingdom Key held at his side as he pressed his free hand against his chest.

Atreus walked up to him as Father held Mimir up. "Sora, what're you doing?" he asked.

Sora didn't respond to him. He whispered, "Please work," he moved his Keyblade in front of him, holding it in both hands, tip aimed down at the Lyngbakr's head. Light swirled around the Keyblade, and before Atreus could do or say anything, a beam of light shot out and crashed against the Lyngbakr.

Atreus jerked back as a bright white light shone out from where the beam hit the Lyngbakr. It vanished in an instant, however, and hovering above the point of impact was a pink crystal orb, surrounded by similarly colored spikes.

Sora opened his eyes with a soft smile. "Alright, it worked!"

"What is this?" Father asked as he stepped up beside them.

"This is a portal into the Lyngbakr's Heart," Sora said, as if that statement made all the sense in the world. "Through it, I can dive into the Lyngbakr's Heart and, if it's at all possible, free it from the Hurt its currently trapped by."

They all stared at him, but Mimir's gaze was brimming with hope. "Are you certain?" he said with a quivering voice. "You can free it from its torment?"

"Maybe." Sora frowned. "What I'm going to attempt is heavily linked to the Power of Waking, and I lost access to it thanks to how I misused and abused it back home." He turned to the portal. "The fact that I could make a portal at all is frankly a miracle." He held his Keyblade across his shoulders. "Plus, the Power of Waking is meant to, in part, free someone's Heart from Darkness. Whatever's going on with the Lyngbakr, it's not the kind of…negativity the Power of Waking was made to handle."

"So…it might not work?" Father said with an arched brow.

"Might not," Sora replied with a grin. "But that doesn't mean I can't' try!"

"Didn't you just say that misusing the Power of Waking is what got you banished from your home to begin with?" Atreus asked. "Sounds like you're about to repeat that."

Sora set his face into a stern frown. "If that's the price it takes to help the Lyngbakr, I'll gladly pay it."

"Such disregard for your personal well-being will be your downfall," Father remarked. Sora just shrugged and turned to the portal.

"Hold on!" Mimir called out. "I'm going with you."

"Mimir, that's insane," Atreus replied. "I mean, this is clearly a thing—"

"Sure, you can come with" Sora said.

"…A thing anyone can do," Atreus lamely finished.

"Mimir, you speak madness," Father said. "Not only is this a…technique none of us are familiar with, but it is one that Sora has readily admitted can have disastrous consequences if improperly handled."

"You won't stop me, Brother," Mimir calmly countered. "If I can help in any way to alleviate, truly alleviate, the pain I've inflicted on this creature, you can be damn sure I'll do it!"

"It's perfectly safe for you guys," Sora added. "Well, as safe as diving into a Heart can be, anyway. But Jiminy was with me when I first abused the Power of Waking—seven times in a row—and he was fine once the dust settled."

"Ha, see! Perfectly safe!"

Father glared at Sora and Mimir in turn. He settled on Sora. "You are certain this is safe?"

"Whatever happens, I promise, I'll take the heat." They all arched a brow at the phrase. "I'll handle it."

Father nodded. "Very well." He hooked Mimir back on his belt. "Lead on, Sora."

"Wait, what?" Mimir jostled on Father's hip. "You're coming with us?"

"I was there when we freed the Lyngbakr from its physical chains. I would be with you to free it from its emotional ones."

"Me too," Atreus said, stepping and smiling down at his friend. "Besides, travelling to a creature's Heart—not that I even know what the means—sounds…fun."

"This is not a 'fun' diversion'," Father scolded him.

"Oh, don't say that!" Sora grinned. "Travelling through Dreams can be real fun!"

"Dreams?" Father repeated. "You said we were traversing into the Lynbakr's Heart."

Sora nodded. "Yeah, but its like…when a Heart is tormented—lost to Darkness—it still dreams. Stuck in the last moments before it fell. The Power of Waking, when used properly, well, wakes them up." He hummed. "But, like I said, I've never done with when a Heart wasn't trapped by Darkness, so I don't know what to expect out of its nightmares."

"Oh, that's why the word nightmare started this whole thing," Atreus said with a snap of his fingers. "You could have led with that. I've travelled through dreams too, you know?"

"Really?" Sora said with a bright-eyes.

Father huffed. "If by 'travelled', Atreus, you mean you accidentally awakened your Giant heritage in your desperation and were lucky enough to have been found by Angrboda in Jotunheim, then yes, you have 'travelled' through dreams." Atreus sent his father a withering glare.

Sora chuckled. "Settle down, you two. Save it for whatever's keeping the Lyngbakr's trapped in misery." He sobered and focused on the portal. "Grab my shoulders and hold on tight." They did so, Atreus on the left, and Father on the right. "I'm going to be honest, when we travel into the Lynbakr's Heart you're going to feel weird. I can't really help with that—just focus on the bonds between us and yourselves and I'll guide us to safety."

Atreus took a deep breath. Trust his father and Mimir? He could do that.

Sora aimed his Keyblade at the portal. It and the Keyblade shined with a pure, white light. Atreus a heavy tug from deep within his chest, growing stronger and stronger. His senses vanished—first his sight, then his hearing, and then his touch—until he was left alone in a vast, unknowable darkness.

He started to panic—thrashing against the unknown—but then two brilliant, shining orbs flashed into being and banished the darkness. It was his father and Mimir—he didn't know how he could tell, he just knew it. They were joined by a third orb—this one shining as bright as the sun. Sora: again, Atreus just knew.

Sora slowly moved in between Atreus, Father, and Mimir. Without thought, they orbited around Sora, as if locking into place and safety around him. Once they were secure, Atreus felt Sora pull them down, back into the darkness. Into the depths of the Lyngbakr's Heart.

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A/N: I have a lot of ideas for how Kratos dealt with PlayStation All-Stars Battle Royale in my head.