"Ready, Atreus?"

"Ready!"

Artemis couldn't help but be amused by the boy's dedication and focus. As though he were taking this little game of theirs more seriously than anything else in his life. His excitement and eagerness was infectious, even if the goddess suspected a lot of it came from knowing the alternative. Atreus had come to her days ago, taking her up on her offer of shelter when he needed to get away from the other gods. Especially Kratos. The brainless bodybuilder was apparently set on the idea of taking his son out on a journey of training and adventure. Atreus putting it in the man's own words (and a surprising and amusing impression). 'My boy, your journey gave you skill but not power! No son of mine will be so tiny! We must pump you up!'

For all of the many, many, many unflattering things that could be said about the god of strength, at least he was consistent.

Casually, she threw three gold coins into the distance, aimed just so to avoid them bouncing off trees or branches. Cutting through the air, three arrows of light struck the coins with quiet 'ping' sounds, one for each. The small discs flipping madly in the air, before Artemis flicked another, firing the fourth coin like a bullet at another hanging coin. "Those two."

Atreus' eyes widened. Once again drawing and loosing an arrow of light. However, that was his last before he had to reach for his quiver again. Allowing the deflected coin to drop to the dirt, unimpeded.

"Too slow," the huntress admonished him with amusement.

"Father said to prioritise accuracy over speed," the young god muttered, sullen for being the butt of the joke.

"This mysterious father of yours sounds like a practical fellow," Artemis mused as she raised her own bow with one hand. The other hand scattering another dozen coins into the distance. Nocking one arrow, she drew and loosed it, the shaft splitting into twelve. Each arrow flying unerringly at a coin. Hitting so solidly, securely and flatly that the coins were pinned to whatever surface they met that lay in that direction. "Of course, both is always the ideal to aim for... No pun intended."

The huntress felt a great deal of pride as the boy stared unblinkingly at the twelve arrows. The twelve that suddenly became only one. The remaining coins staying where they were simply by how embedded they were in the trees. He looked back at her, a hint of challenge in his eyes. "I'll beat you one day."

The green-haired goddess felt like she was looking at him for the first time all over again. Or perhaps looking at someone else entirely. That same playful challenge, that same eager spirit, desire to improve and admiration for her despite that. Seeing that look, old and painful memories flooded back. And with them she was washed in sadness and anger in equal measure. Then only anger. How dare he remind her of–!

"My Lady."

The soft call of her dearest partner shook her from her tumultuous emotions. Enough to once again to see the object of her fury as he really was. A young boy who didn't know any better. She swallowed her anger. "You'll have your work cut out for you then, won't you?" she asked as she turned and walked away, afraid she would say or do something she would regret. Thankfully, Callisto quickly distracted him for her before he could wonder what that was all about.

Unfortunately for Artemis, that left their other guest entirely unattended. And that guest was as always all too willing to poke and prod in all kinds of uncomfortable ways.

"I missed seeing you like this," Aphrodite confided as she sat lounging on a grassy knoll, as naked and unashamed as always.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Artemis," the more sultry of the half-sisters sighed, "I know you and I haven't particularly gotten along, though not for lack of trying on my part."

"If you call publicly denigrating my preferences 'trying'."

"I do." The sarcastic jibe was faced with typical lack of shame or regret. "You know I do love you, right? I want you to be happy. But I don't think you are."

The sad and disappointed look of the love goddess did no favours for the huntress' mood. "And once again, you continue to fail in understanding me. I like being on my own, you know that. The fact that you think that's not how I should live-"

"I said I want you to be happy," Aphrodite corrected. "I remember when you kept to yourself but you were happy. That isn't the case anymore. You would be frustrating and standoffish, but you'd at least talk to the rest of us sometimes."

Family or not, one of the few she didn't hold strong animosity towards or not, Aphrodite was treading into dangerous territory. "You know why I don't." The rest of them could happily ignore past transgressions. Aphrodite of all of them wouldn't be able to.

Standing, the goddess of love walked past her sister, watching Callisto with the newest member of their pantheon. Teaching him the finer points of the spear. "I do. I won't be so callous as to tell you to get over it. You can quietly loathe father as much as you like. I know what you feel in your heart, sister. You might not be like the rest of us. You have few bonds but you treasure them all the more for it." She glanced back with a genuine smile. "I can only find that to be beautiful."

"And I find you to be annoying."

Another snide remark that Aphrodite took in frustrating stride. "No matter what happened, you aren't beholden to only her." Once again, her rose-coloured eyes returned to the nymph guiding the boy through proper grip and thrust. "And I think she knows that better than you do. She sees the same thing I do. You came to see us again, just for him. Even if you don't notice, you let your guard down around him. Just like-"

It was too far. Even if the huntress was more willing to humour her sister than she was most days, that was several steps too far. "Don't. Don't mention his name."

Artemis couldn't tell whether it should be called bullheadedness or determination. Either way, Aphrodite didn't take the warning in the spirit it was given. "... Love ends in despair. Always." The statement seemed to carry its own share of misery. Spoken by someone who knew such a truth intimately. Even if not by personal experience, but by it being an innate part of her nature. "That pain cannot be discarded. But no one, not him, or Callisto, or the little godling over there would be glad to know you live according to the will of that pain alone."

"Well... Thank you for that unasked for commentary regarding how I choose to live my life. Now if you don't mind–"

"... ooooooOOOOOOH-BOOM!" The suddenly approaching voice reached its peak as it declared the source's impact a fraction of a second earlier than the impact itself. A muscular figure slamming powerfully into the forest floor with such force that the resulting blast uprooted the surrounding trees. Turning the wooded area into a small clearing. For all the protections put on the camp to hide it from even the gods, Kratos smashed through them like they weren't there.

"YES! That's an entrance!" Kratos exclaimed as he looked around, finding the few people in his vicinity. "AH, MY BOY!" the god of strength shouted, seeing Atreus and a noticeably disquieted Callisto. "And I see Callisto as well! Seducing a nymph! You make your father proud!" If he noticed said nymph slowly backing away from him, he didn't comment on it. "Artemis!" He did however comment on his half-sister interceding herself between him and her current companions. "So this is where you hide yourself!"

"Not anymore," she answered bitterly. "How did you find this place?"

"Eh, not important!" The insufferable buffoon dismissed her question. Quickly moving past her, he grabbed his son by the arm. "Come, boy! Adventure awaits!" And with a widening of the boy's eyes, the two launched skyward. Disappearing into the distance.

The same as always happened with her family. They showed up, did whatever they damn well pleased, then left. Leaving Artemis to pick up the pieces. Just as she had said to Kratos, she would need to abandon this camp entirely now that Kratos knew where it was. The last thing she wanted was for her father to visit when she wasn't present. But more importantly and immediately, she rounded on Aphrodite, her expression thunderous. "Did you lead him here?!"

"Hardly," the love goddess answered, dismissive but genuine. "I had to find this place myself if you'll remember, and I arrived yesterday. If Kratos had followed me, do you believe he would have waited this long? And I told none where I intended to go. I can swear to that much."

"It had to be you, knowingly or not." There was no other explanation. She shook her head, turning her back on Aphrodite. "You can leave, sister. Don't come back."

"You believe no one else knows where your hidden camps are?"

Artemis didn't answer. There was no point, and she was done speaking with any of her family for a good long time. Of course no one else knew where she lived. The only ones who did, she trusted without question.

One final time, she looked in the direction Kratos had taken Atreus, before shaking her head in disappointment. She likely wouldn't see him again for a long while. And by that point, she worried he would begin to take far more after his father. But there was very little she could do about it now. All she could do was pick up the pieces of her life again, just as she had every other time her family decided to drop in and ruin everything.

-(-)-

Several worlds away, a god moved with purpose he hadn't felt in decades. Perhaps even centuries. It was difficult to properly gauge time when living eternally and in isolation. Counting years meant nothing. Only those moments, those pivot points in his existence held any real weight.

And Kratos, the Greek God of War, had met another one of those moments. Faye, whatever her plans had been, whatever her deceptions had been, suddenly they were unimportant. Had she seen this coming also? Or had Freya done as Kratos once had so long ago. Defied the fates themselves. Rendered every prophecy, every bit of guidance and planning entirely moot. Had the circumstances not been as they were, Kratos would likely have found amusement in his wife's carefully laid plans coming unravelled in so simple a manner. He loved Faye. Even now, knowing he was a pawn in another game of gods, he still loved her. But there was always a certain satisfaction in seeing fate trampled underfoot.

But again, never at the cost of his son.

The boat cut through the water, avoiding the growing ice floes caused by the onset of Fimbulwinter. Heading directly for Tyr's temple. The only sounds coming from the water and his heavy footsteps as he climbed up to the temple proper. Slamming the doors open far more easily than he had in the many times he had come through with Atreus. He didn't slow, nor hesitate. The moment he came around the corner into the dwarves' shop proper, he spoke. "We must traverse the Realm Between."

The blue-skinned dwarf hammering away at a metal plate barely looked up. "Ain't seen ya in a month and you're as salty an asshole as ever. Fuck do you want from us, then? Realm Between? Door's right behind you," he suggested, pointing with the hammer at the gate to the Realm Between. But as he did, he noticed something else. "No little turd again?" Brok asked, suddenly a little more serious. "He ain't sick again is he?"

"No," Kratos answered. "Freya took her revenge for Baldur's death."

"Little Brother got cast into the Realm Between through one of the tears," Mimir added.

Sindri, who had been sharpening a knife on a grindstone, froze. The implications dawned on him immediately. "Oh... Oh dear."

Kratos ignored the damning implications of the horror in the dwarf's voice. "We need a method to traverse it safely in order to find him."

The Huldra Brothers looked at one another. Sindri looked away first, leaving Brok to deliver the news. "You prob'ly don't wanna hear this, but you lookin' for a safe way says what your chances of findin' him still breathin' are."

"I do not care. You have the ability to step between realms without harm."

"How'd you...?" Brok asked, before looking at his brother who took on an overly innocent and casual appearance. "Oh, why don't you go an' tell 'em all of our secrets while yer at it, huh? Slop for brains, I oughta–"

The ornery dwarf was silenced quickly and completely as Kratos' fists slammed down onto the table. The sound of the impact ringing off the walls of the temple. The force creating a wave of pressure that cleared the table. It was a point being made. The god's rage bubbling to the surface just a little to declare clearly yet voicelessly, this was not the time for bickering or banter.

"Kratos," Sindri said as he walked toward the counter, standing next to his brother. "We'd help. You know we would. But what you're asking for... You need Tyr for this, not us."

"An' Tyr ain't here no more," Brok added.

A moment of silence as the problem weighed heavily on all present. Until, "Brother," Mimir spoke. "A thought occurs. We did find somethin' ta travel the Realm Between before, aye? It may be inert, but-Oh okay," the reanimated head suddenly swerved as Kratos turned for the door immediately. "Guess we're going then."

The god left without another word. Climbed down to the lake, into a boat, and right back to where he started. Across the lake to the north-east. To the Jotunheim tower.

"Well. S'pose we've got our work cut out for us," Mimir said as they rode the lift up to the tower's entrance. "From what we saw, when we brought the tower back, the Unity Stone wasn't really meant to come out again after we used it. Not to mention gettin' into the tower again. These things were built to last, evidenced by the cliffs around them falling apart before they've seen a lick of wear. Ah think we'll struggle to get back in now that the tower's served its purpose."

"More prophecy," Kratos muttered. "More paths laid out for us to walk. We walked them. But now their intentions, Tyr's, Faye's, they do not matter. All that matters..." He stepped off the lift, stood before the great doors of the tower. "All that matters..." He let himself feel, let himself indulge in the rage that he had kept carefully leashed since he watched Atreus slip away from him. Let it fill and consume him. Empower him. "Is GETTING! BACK! MY! SON! RAAAAAAGH!" With the power of his divine wrath, his fists slammed into the doors, once, twice, the entire tower shuddering with each blow, three times, four.

"Brother, I don't–!"

"RAAAAAGH!" With one final slam of his fist, the massive obsidian door crumpled and bent inward. Not far, but enough to allow Kratos inside whether he was meant to be or not.

"I... Stand corrected," Mimir mumbled. "By Odin's sweaty, wrinkled bawbag, I never thought I'd see the day. Brother, these towers were made to withstand the fury of gods and not give a bloody inch! How did you–?!"

"I was sufficiently motivated," Kratos grunted in answer, venturing into the darkened room.

"S'pose I should've seen that answer comin'. Now, how do we get the Unity Stone out of–?"

"RAAAAAGH!"

"Okay, yeah, stupid question."

Moments later, a visibly exhausted Kratos returned inside Tyr's temple. A large, black and ornate stone clutched in a bloody and broken hand. "Can you do anything with this?" he asked as he set the stone on the counter, before forcefully setting his finger bones and letting his innate healing get to work.

"Uh..." Sindri uttered, staring at the grotesque display, before looking down at the legendary, and currently bloodstained, artefact. "Any chance you could... Wash–?"

"No."

"Aw, quit your bellyaching," the blue dwarf grunted, grabbing the stone. "Oof. Tyr sure knew his shit for a dick-swinging Aesir, didn't he? Not exactly my area, but I'm sure when my brother stops cryin' about a little blood he'll be able to work somethin' out."

"I'll, blugh, I'll see what I can do," Sindri promised, even as he tried to hold back his disgust.

"Well, I suppose that's one problem with this slightly, or more than slightly, mad endeavour maybe potentially sorted," Mimir declared in a tone that sounded only a little bit disingenuous and discomfited. "Problem is, Brother. That's only one. What little we could do to traverse the Realm Between, it was by walking the branches of the world tree. Ah'm not sayin' we can't look that way for a start, maybe we'd get lucky. But your boy was cast adrift. He could be anywhere. We'd need a way to traverse it better than that."

It was a fair point. The Realm Between was incalculably large. It was, after all, essentially the primordial existence that hadn't been shaped into anything coherent. In these lands, if the nine realms consisted of everything that was, the Realm Between consisted of everything that wasn't. And in that sense, it could be a space that was an infinite existence. The god of war could very well end up searching it for the rest of eternity.

Not that it would stop him. "... I remember once, Atreus spoke of a ship that could fly under its own power."

"Before you made a pale imitation of it in Helheim?" Mimir asked. "Skithblathnir. Aye. Able to sail the skies just as well as it could the seas. The most legendary vessel in all the nine realms."

"You claim to know everything of these lands. Where is this vessel?"

"Good question. Last I knew, it belonged to the Vanir. Good luck askin' 'em about it with Vanaheim sealed off by Odin, mind you."

Another fair point. They wouldn't be able to get to Vanaheim via the realm travel room. Finding a way to do so would be an even more difficult task than following the breadcrumb trail left for them to travel to Jotunheim. The guidance of prophecy was long gone, for good and ill. Though, the realm travel room was not the only way to pass through to other realms.

Brok spent a good few seconds picking his nose, checking the contents he dug out on the tip of his finger, before he noticed the muscular man staring at him. He scoffed. "Oh, sure, pile more on top o' me, why don'cha? Ol' Brok just lives to solve all yer fuckin' problems."

"Know that it is appreciated."

Both men were uncomfortable with the display of gratitude. Though the one receiving it more so than the one giving it. "Yeah well, as my idiot brother said, 'I'll see what I can do'." The tone was sarcastic, but the underlying intent was honest.

"Okay, another avenue toward solving the problems with this mad scheme," Mimir said. "So, since we'll be waitin' a bit for the dwarves to make progress on those, what's our objective? Where are we headed?"

"What else would hinder us in our search?"

"Well... I suppose a way to search out your boy easier would be good to have. Not sure what to look for in that regard. Got a few ideas, but a lot of 'em would cause more problems than they'd solve."

"Such as?"

"Eh... Let's leave that until such options are even possible, shall we? Get back to me when the dwarves give us a way to traverse the realms fully. Then we'll talk. Against my better judgement."

"Hrn." Unsatisfying and vague answers were not what Kratos was looking for. But then, the god knew well the importance of not putting the cart before the horse. If it was something currently beyond their means, there was no point in even mentioning it. "This Skidbladnir–"

"Skithblathnir."

"How does it propel itself? Does it sail, or does it somehow row through the air?"

"Sail," Mimir answered immediately.

"Then that is also a problem. There is very little if any wind in the Realm Between."

"Hm... Aye. You've got a point there. We'll need a way to propel the ship, won't we?"

"... I have a plan."

"Oh, bollocks, not again."

-(-)-

"THIS IS NOT A PLAN! I DON'T APPROVE THIS PLAN!"

"QUIET, MIMIR! I MUST FOCUS!"

The dragon Fafnir roared, spraying lightning through the canyon as Kratos leapt high to crash the Leviathan Axe down onto the beast's head.

-(-)-

A/N: This chapter seen very early by my generous supporters on THE GREAT FORBIDDEN P! FEAR THE P! LOVE THE P!