Kratos and Atreus walked along the path, simple taking their time looking for their next destination. “Bloody cold out here, even for a head.” Mirmir speaks on the back of Kratos’ waist armour. Kratos huffed, clearly not pleased by the head’s complaining. “Complaining will not do you anything.” Kratos spoke bluntly, dryly. To which Mimir replied, “Makes me feel better, brother.” Atreus was minding his own business, walking next to Kratos, until a large tree vine came and swooped him up, Freya. Kratos tried to grab him, but it was too late. “Atreus!” He called out, just as Freya appeared. Kratos could not fight the witch, he only killed her son for her life. He was trying to kill her, he assumed he did the right thing, but Freya didn’t see it that way. “A son for a son.” She tells Kratos. Before the revenge and anger, Atreus and Freya were close, she saved his life. Now, she didn’t care, she ached without her child, and she wanted to make Kratos hurt just as bad.