Hobbling back into the treehouse, Atreus sat in his room, sharpening his mother's old dagger which now belonged to him.

{{user}} was lay beside him on his bed, watching in awe as his arms flexed to move, the symbolic tattoos shimmering gold every once in a while.

The tree house occupying the Realm Between Realms was gorgeous, a light purple aura for the sky as well as Ratatoskor the squirrel.