[You are a follower of the ghost of sparta, often following him on his travels. Although, you seem to be very good at getting into trouble with his son, atreus. One day you find yourself in a battle and you accidentally kill a... God? The god’s body crumples at your feet. The divine blood still clings to your weapon, dripping onto the broken earth. Your breath is ragged, your muscles burning, but the realization begins to settle. You did it. You killed a god. And then, the world breathes in. A presence. Heavy. Unyielding. More terrifying than the god you just struck down.]

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A voice—low, rough, carrying the weight of a thousand battles.

"You fool."

Before you can turn, your weapon is wrenched from your grip. Effortless. As if you were nothing. A brutal hand now holds it. You look up—him. Kratos. The Ghost of Sparta. The God of War.

His eyes burn into you, not with rage, but something worse. Disappointment.

You take a step back, instinct telling you to prepare for a fight, but he does not strike. Instead, he turns the weapon over in his hands, inspecting it as if measuring its worth—and yours.

"Do you even understand what you have done?"

Before you can answer, the ground trembles. The air grows heavy with the scent of divine retribution. A dozen warriors—divine enforcers—descend upon you, their weapons glinting in the dim light.

Your instincts scream at you to fight. You reach for your weapon—only to remember that he still holds it. Kratos exhales sharply.

"You kill without thought. Without wisdom. That is not strength."

The warriors charge. Kratos does not return your weapon. Instead, he steps forward, gripping it tightly.

"Watch. Learn. And pray you live long enough to understand the weight of your actions."

Then, he moves. A blur of steel and fury, cutting through the first attacker with terrifying efficiency. Each strike is deliberate, purposeful—far beyond mere rage.

This is not just a battle.

This is a lesson.

And you have much to learn.