"Atreus, it's been far too long," Angrboða approaches, blissfully heated by their reunion.
Atreus firmly stands in place atop the frozen earth, bound by disbelief. Even as she breaks the gap between them, her hands and black nails caressing his chest, he remains idle. As though studying, memorizing his features, she grasps and touches every fiber of his body. Even slipping her fingers beneath his armor and cloth, getting a precise, intimate examination of his physic. She smirks, indulging herself with this physical reunion. Satisfaction fills her as she gains a proper grasp of Atreus's hone prowess.
"You've grown stronger since last we saw one another," she comments proudly.
Immediately, Atreus latches his hands around her wrist, bring her grazing fingers away. Despite the abrupt contact that thwarts her intentions, Angrboða is unfazed. Her smile persistent, peering into his mist blue eyes with her blood-red gaze. His heart is torn, pulled between feeling anger towards her past actions or puzzlement by her return.
"Where have you been?" Atreus asks, a sliver of frustration in his tone.
"Plotting, planning," she answers, effortlessly and slowly leaving his grasp. She paces around him, her hands continuing to examine his body, along with his arsenal. All the while, haughtily, feeling accomplished for Atreus's performance and power.
"Doing the same as you have been, preparing for war," she comments while running her claws across the blades of chaos. Sparks ignite, even steam from her frozen fingers grazing the hellish twin swords is produced. "You've done well... And in my absence, you have accomplished so much!"
At last, a firm mindset is placed over Atreus's consciousness. Puzzlement, shock at finally having several of his questions answered. These past few days of hearing voices, having trouble controlling his rage in Nifleheim, the visions in Alfheim. All of it became clear, along with its source.
"It was you, all along," Atreus states, aggravated. "You've been the one poking in my head, causing my visions, the voices, and loosening my hold on my temper."
Angrboða grins, not denying this bold claim. Even showing this bravado openly as she takes a seat atop one of the logs of Atreus's old home. Her body on full display, extending her legs out in a satisfying stretch. Her smirk endures as her focus fixates on the Wolf of Midgard.
"You seem so upset by it," she replies. "More so towards me, where does this fire stem from?"
"I have my reasons..." Atreus answers sternly, pointing directly at the scar across his eye.
Despite her carefree demeanor, the moment her attention is drawn to the mark across his face, her smile fades. The soft blue in his eyes is negated by his cold glare honing on her tenaciously. A deep recess of guilt resurfaces, trickling from her expression. Only to be capped off, buried by absolution for her cause.
"I had no choice," she claims with conviction. "If I had come to your aid, Odin could have uncovered your identity, and possibly mine."
She stands, graceful with each of her frozen steps. The winter winds follow in her wake, raising flakes of ice into the air around them. Again, her hand grazes his body, her claws scraping his armor, and her firm fingers pressing his hardened flesh. He stands his ground, monitoring her actions carefully.
"Everything we had done would amount to nothing," Angrboða says with certainty. "All of our efforts, pointless with Asgard hunting us. You alone announcing your existence to the Aesir was already risky."
"So leave me to rot for your own sake?" Atreus asks, offended. "Exactly how long have you been on the sidelines, watching me as I face death countless times?"
She halts in his gaze. Angrboða's fingertips run across his face before resting her palm upon his cheek. Reluctant, he doesn't object to her affections.
"Why would I intervene?" She asks. "You've exceeded where many have failed. Each brush with death has only honed your skills. You even united the Elves of Alfheim under the same banner... A feat even the gods thought impossible..."
As Angrboða slips her hand away, she paces toward Atreus's old home. Beneath a thin coat of snow, one of his wooden figurines peaks. As soft as the powdery sheet of white, she slips the Elven toy into her grasp. Her claws digging into the worn-out idol.
"I suppose every army does need its expendables..." She claims, shattering it without effort. The piece of his past breaking before his eyes strikes the Wolf of Midgard in his chest. "Bodies to cast away to weaken the enemy..."
A blend of amusement and disdain is stained upon her face. Remarking and thinking of the Elves emerges a bitter contempt for the race. A glow of hatred emits in her eyes, burning and rivaling the light of flames.
"You still think you can stop Ragnarök?" She questions. "To prevent what not even the gods shiver at the mention of? You and I both know your not the hero type..."
"Why are you here now, Angrboða?" Atreus questions, each word that leaves her lips only adds wood to the fires of his anger. "What are you playing at? Why go through all of this effort?"
It's his list of questions that quells her fury before he becomes aware of it. She turns herself back to him. Her simple movements are smoother than a running river. Even when approaching, her walking is proper and elegant. This time, she only hovers her hand near his cheek, teasing him with a warm touch.
"All will be explained in time..." She tells him before pulling her arm away. Now with both arms behind her, she glances to the cloudy, dark heavens. "Say, the days sure are feeling short in Midgard."
Atreus also lifts his gaze to the sky. Though he had traveled a long way, he'd not noticed it before. When first returning to the Realm, the sun was just rising. Now, it's already begun to set behind the highest peak of Midgard.
"You might want to look into that," Angrboða's voice slips into his mind, fading into the distance.
Just as Loki turns to face her, all that's left is a thick cloud of mist. Every trace of her is gone, with only the chilling winds to grant him company. The fog around him settles, just as the echoes of her voice ripple away. All that remains is the barren reminder of his past. Throughout their discussion, Atreus has unconsciously clung to the Spartan cloth that his father once wore. Once more, the demons of his history have returned to thwart him from his path. This time, none can guide him like his parents could. What decisions he's made thus far are his to judge and execute. Taking the fabric of his father's homeland, he dawns it as a waistcloth, like Kratos before him. The colors of Greece and the materials of Midgard are in full display.
Before he can press on, a heavy growl snags at his attention like a frigid, rusty hook. The imposing sigh of a great beast blows away the remaining mists that envelope the valley. Atreus faces the unknown creature without worry, with his father's blades already searing in his grasp. Yet, his unconscious act to take up arms is quelled by the source of the grumbling. Not just Fafnir, but the three dragons gaze down at the Wolf of Midgard from atop the nearby peaks. Perched, looking down at the demigod, sparks of lightning in their jaws.
"They didn't say all three of them were together," Atreus notes, worrisome.
To assert his intentions of peace, he steadily sheathes his blades. His steps are just as slow while approaching the sibling wyverns. As he marches toward them, Fafnir crawls down the crumbling peak. With each of his razor claws landing on the earth, the landscape trembles. Now only mere feet of winter winds divide the draconic beast and the Last Son of Sparta.
"Can you understand me!" Atreus calls out.
Fafnir, unable to speak his tongue, groans in response, casting a powerful gust of winds.
"Well, at least, he remembers me," Atreus deduces. "I need your blood!"
Again, the dragon is passive to his words, all the more fueling the hesitance to retrieve their blood. If this fails, Atreus may have three dragons to deal with. With gentle, painfully slow motion, he draws his seax and the canister. His arms tremble and shiver, placing himself in a daring position while already taking a high risk. Fafnir lifts his skull as Loki draws closer, granting him space to come forth.
"Please don't attack me," Atreus mutters under his anxious breath.
In one swipe, Atreus cuts into the claw of the large reptile. With haste, he draws as much blood from the beast's talon into the canister. Even as storming growls now press air down his back, his speed isn't thwarted.
"Easy, easy!" Atreus calls out with his blade-wielding hand held high.
With a large enough quantity acquired, Atreus begins bridging a gap between him and the skeptical beast. The radiating agitation of their sibling sparks anger in the other two dragons. The rumble of their steps as they leave their perches rattles the core of Atreus's soul. Taking swifter steps to bolster the space between him and the beast, his legs carry him urgently back. In stern unison, the dragon siblings growl down at Loki. His body freezes, his muscles flexed with such intensity he can feel his veins pulse blood through them.
"Not good," he whispers anxiously.
Fafnir's skull draws close to him, hovering above the frozen earth in an attempt to meet the Son of Kratos eye to eye. Instead of a hostile groan, the beast is instead fixated in severity towards the Last Son of Sparta. His siblings hold their ground, implanting their talons into the earth as sparks race across their jaws. Atreus gazes into the golden iris of Fafnir, his breath frozen wearily. His unsteady hand lifts the canister, displaying it in front of the dragon's eye.
However, it is not the Atreus' intentions laid bare that quell the beast's frustration. But an unforeseeable force that disturbs all of Midgard. Around them, enveloping the skies in a frantic fury, birds, crows, and other flying creatures take to the air. From the forests, elegant white elks, rampant boar, and panicked critters flee for their lives. Their minds clouded in fear, blatant and brazenly ignoring the large reptiles that bar the path. The spirits of nature are in an uproar by an invisible influence in the Realm. It's not long that Atreus can sense the turmoil, the spite, and the boiling wrath that approaches.
"Why did you come here?" He questions the draconic siblings. "What's happening?"
Yet, his words fade to their attention by the mass of discord. Roaring fearfully in unison, the dragons spread their webbed, scaley wings. The flapping of their appendages hurls wild winds in all directions, nearly lifting Loki into the air. As the titanic reptiles ascend, the earth beneath them rumbles. An earthquake that would drop any god to their knees erupts beneath Atreus's heel. The stone pavement cracks and splinters, creating deep canyon's throughout the valley. Pillars of rock and metal burst from the floor, the world around Atreus is rapidly declining into a barren, shattered, and uninhabitable scene.
With only moments to escape the crumbling landscape, he sprints and leaps across the shifting terrain. He hurls his chained blades to pierce and tangle on anything that he can latch on. Like jungle vines, he swings and launches himself to the outskirts of his family's property. Within a minute, the history of this region is reduced to gravel and rubble. Boulders, rock, dirt, and tree's smother the land. Along with all traces of its history.
Atreus's heart races, pounding violently in somber disarray at the sight. His legs cave on him, unable to bear the weight of his past life, now being lost to him. He observes from afar, lost by what just unfolded, with no idea what could have made such an event occur. More so, how such a travesty was able to travel across the realms. Since his quest began, the worlds on Ygdrassil's branches fall into chaos, welcoming the coming of Ragnarök, the twilight of the gods.
"Another earthquake, but in Midgard," he mutters, breathless. "What's happening?"
(Authors note)
We've officially reached 20,000 views. Thank you all so much for the support. I'm glad that so many of you enjoy this story and hope it continues to be of your liking. Also, it may be a bit late, but Happy New Year! We're also near the 2nd year anniversary of Atreus's Future, it sure hasn't felt that long, yet here we are! This has been a fun journey!
I've been gone for a bit, which I do apologize for. I guess I needed a break to focus on my book and work. I'll be sure to inform you all if things get overwhelming in my schedule again.