The road stretched before them, long and winding, as the group left Ericson's behind and ventured into the unknown. The sky above was gray and overcast, casting a muted light over the forest as they made their way deeper into the wilderness. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the occasional distant groan of walkers kept them on edge. But the immediate threat was minimal for now, and their progress, though slow, was steady.

Kratos led the way, his gaze constantly scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. Clementine and Freya flanked him, their weapons at the ready. Behind them, AJ walked beside Louis and Violet, his eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness.

For a long while, no one spoke. The weight of the journey ahead hung over them like a dark cloud, and the uncertainty of what they might face made the silence feel oppressive. But then, just as the tension in the air began to grow unbearable, Mimir's voice broke through the quiet.

"Ah, it's far too quiet for a journey like this, don't you think, brother? Perhaps a story to lighten the mood, eh?"

Clementine chuckled with a cheeky smirk. "Oh, this should be good."

Mimir chuckled from his place on Kratos' belt. "Oh, aye, lass. I'm known as the wisest man in all the realms. Stories are my specialty!"

Louis grinned, clearly intrigued. "Alright, lay it on us, Mimir!"

Kratos remained silent, but he didn't object. He had grown accustomed to Mimir's tales over their time together, and though he rarely showed it, even Kratos found comfort in the familiar sound of his friend's voice.

"Well then," Mimir said, his tone brightening, "since we're headed into a battle against an ancient force, why not a tale of a god who stood for peace in a time of war? Aye, that sounds just about right."

AJ looked up, curious. "A god? Like Kratos?"

Mimir chuckled again. "Not quite like Kratos, lad, but close enough. This is the tale of Tyr, the Norse god of war—though unlike most gods of war, he wasn't one for bloodshed. No, Tyr was a god of justice and wisdom. He sought peace where others sought conflict."

Clementine listened quietly as they continued walking, intrigued by the idea of a god of war who didn't thrive on violence. It was hard to imagine, especially with Kratos walking silently beside her, radiating power and strength.

"Tyr was revered across all the realms for his fairness and honor," Mimir continued, his voice carrying through the forest as they walked. "But what made him truly remarkable wasn't just his wisdom—it was his bravery in the face of the impossible. You see, there came a time when the gods of Asgard found themselves at odds with the giants of Jotunheim. War seemed inevitable, and many gods were eager for battle. But Tyr? Tyr sought another path."

Violet spoke up. "A god of war who didn't want to fight? Doesn't sound like it worked out for him."

Mimir chuckled again. "Aye, you'd think so, wouldn't you? But Tyr was clever. He knew that the only way to avoid war was to forge a bond between the gods and the giants. So, with great courage, he traveled to Jotunheim, unarmed and alone, to speak with the giants and find a way to stop the fighting before it even began."

Louis whistled softly, impressed. "That takes guts. Walking into the enemy's territory like that? I don't think I'd be that brave."

Freya, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "Tyr was one of the few gods who truly understood the value of peace. His actions saved countless lives—at least for a time."

Mimir's voice softened slightly. "Aye, Freya's right. Tyr's bravery and diplomacy brought about an era of peace between the gods and the giants. For years, there was no war. No bloodshed. Just an uneasy but lasting truce."

AJ's eyes were wide as he listened. "So he stopped the war?"

Mimir's tone grew more somber. "He did, lad. But peace, as you'll learn, doesn't always last. The gods of Asgard grew restless, and the peace Tyr had worked so hard to build eventually crumbled. War came anyway, and Tyr, despite his best efforts, was dragged into it."

Kratos' grip on the Leviathan Axe tightened slightly as Mimir spoke. Though Tyr and Kratos were different in many ways, Kratos understood the futility of trying to escape war. No matter how hard one fought for peace, conflict always found its way back.

"Though Tyr's peace didn't last forever, his legacy lives on," Mimir continued. "He was a god who believed in something greater than just war. He believed in the possibility of a better world, one where understanding and compassion could win over violence. He stood for justice and fairness in a time when both were in short supply."

Clementine glanced at Kratos. "Sounds like Tyr was a lot different from you."

Kratos remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a growl. "Tyr was a fool. He believed peace could be permanent. It cannot."

Mimir sighed. "Ah, brother, you're too hard on the man. Tyr knew the risks, but he chose to hope, and that's more than most can say."

The group fell into silence again as they walked, Mimir's tale still lingering in the air. Clementine found herself thinking about the story long after Mimir had finished. Tyr had tried to stop the inevitable, to find another way, and yet war had come for him all the same. In some ways, it reminded her of their current situation. They were leaving the safety of Ericson's to face a threat they barely understood, trying to stop something before it destroyed them all.

And yet, like Tyr, she knew the fight was coming. She could feel it, the weight of it pressing down on her with every step they took.

AJ, walking beside her, looked up at her with wide eyes. "Do you think we'll be like Tyr?"

Clementine smiled softly, ruffling his hair. "We'll do our best. That's all we can do."

Kratos, his eyes fixed on the path ahead, remained silent. He had heard Mimir's story countless times before, but it never failed to stir something deep within him. Tyr's legacy was one of hope, of believing that peace could be won through understanding rather than bloodshed.

But Kratos knew better. He had learned the hard way that the cycle of violence never truly ended. No matter how hard one tried to escape it, war always found its way back.

As they continued their journey, the shadows of the forest seemed to grow longer, the air thick with the promise of battles yet to come. But for now, in the quiet of the road, they had Mimir's stories to remind them that there had once been gods who fought for something other than war.

And perhaps, in some small way, they could do the same.