The stranger led Kratos and the elder through the village gate, their steps purposeful yet cautious. The villagers watched in tense silence, unsure whether to feel relieved or more alarmed by the unfolding events. Fenrik followed at a distance, curiosity etched on his young face, though the elder waved for him to stay behind.
The forest enveloped them quickly, its shadows deeper than before. The air grew heavier with each step, tinged with an unnatural chill. Kratos kept his gaze fixed on the figure ahead, his senses honed for any sign of ambush.
"You walk with purpose," Kratos said, his tone sharp. "But I have yet to see your truth. Who are you, truly?"
The stranger glanced back, their face half-hidden by the hood. "I am a guide, nothing more. My name holds no meaning, but my purpose does. The world has begun to fray at its edges, and those like you are the threads holding it together—whether you wish to or not."
Kratos's jaw tightened. "Spare me riddles. What do you know of this chaos?"
"Enough to know it did not end with the gods you slew," the stranger replied. "The Nexus, as you called it, was not merely a point of convergence. It was a prison—a fragile barrier containing forces older than the gods themselves."
The elder halted abruptly, his expression alarmed. "What kind of forces?"
The stranger stopped as well, leaning on their staff. "Primordial forces. Beings that existed long before the Olympians, Asgardians, or any pantheon. When the Nexus was shattered, their essence began to seep into the realms."
Kratos narrowed his eyes. "You speak of Titans? Primordials?"
"Something beyond them," the stranger said. "Entities that do not belong to this reality but hunger for it nonetheless. They twist the land, its creatures, and its people, reshaping all in their image."
The elder's voice wavered. "If these beings are so powerful, what hope do we have of resisting them?"
The stranger looked directly at Kratos. "Him."
Kratos's expression darkened. "I am no savior. I destroyed the Nexus to end the gods' tyranny. What comes after is not my burden to bear."
The stranger stepped closer, their glowing staff casting faint light on Kratos's scarred face. "Yet here you are, standing between this village and the chaos. You cannot run from what you are, Kratos. A breaker of chains, yes—but also a protector. Whether you admit it or not, you have already chosen."
The tension hung in the air, thick and unyielding. Kratos clenched his fists, his thoughts churning. He had fought gods, titans, and beasts, but this—this felt like something far greater, a war that could not be won by strength alone.
The stranger turned and resumed walking. "Come. There is something you must see."
They continued deeper into the forest, the path winding and treacherous. After some time, they arrived at a clearing dominated by an ancient stone altar. Strange symbols etched into its surface glowed faintly, pulsating with a rhythm that matched the hum in the air.
"This is a Nexus shard," the stranger explained, gesturing to the altar. "A fragment of the barrier you destroyed. Its energy is unstable, but it holds answers—if you're willing to face them."
Kratos approached the altar, his hand instinctively reaching for the Leviathan Axe strapped to his back. "What answers?"
The stranger's voice was grave. "The truth of what you've unleashed. And the path you must take to stop it."
The symbols on the shard began to glow brighter, and the air grew heavy with energy. Kratos placed a hand on the altar, and a surge of chaotic power coursed through him. Images flooded his mind—visions of worlds unraveling, creatures born of nightmares, and a looming darkness that defied comprehension.
Then, a voice echoed in his mind, low and resonant.
"You thought the gods were your greatest battle. Foolish mortal. You have only begun to understand the cost of defiance."
Kratos's grip on the altar tightened, his teeth gritted as the vision faded. He staggered back, his breath heavy.
The stranger watched him intently. "Now you see. The choice is yours, Kratos. Will you fight to mend the world, or let it fall into ruin?"
Kratos straightened, his gaze burning with determination. "I will fight. But not for you. Not for gods, mortals, or legends. I fight because I must."
The elder stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. "Then we fight with you. Whatever comes, this village will stand with its protector."
The stranger nodded solemnly. "So be it. Your journey begins here, Kratos. The first thread in a tapestry of battles yet to come."
As they turned to leave the clearing, the altar's glow dimmed, but the hum of chaos lingered in the air—a promise of trials yet to unfold.