CHAPTER 100 — THE THRONE OF SHADOWS
The spiral of the Seventh Realm ended abruptly, opening into a cavernous expanse unlike anything Kratos and Atreus had encountered before. The ceiling stretched impossibly high, draped in blackened clouds that crackled with crimson lightning. The floor was jagged, uneven, and slick with shadows that writhed like living things. At its center, a colossal throne of obsidian and shadow rose from the ground, twisted spires radiating outward, pulsing faintly with the heartbeat of the Realm itself.
Kratos' eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on the Leviathan Axe. Frost shimmered along its runes, ready for the inevitable onslaught. "This is it," he said, voice low and lethal. "The source of the Realm's power. Every trial we faced was leading here. Every shadow, every whisper… it all converges on this place. Be ready."
Atreus' threads laced along his arms, his bow drawn and arrows notched. "I can feel it, Father. The Realm… it's alive here. Angry, waiting. Like it knows we're close."
Kratos' jaw tightened. "Then we must be sharper. Faster. Stronger. Every second counts."
The air vibrated, a deep hum that resonated through their bones. Shadows rose from every corner of the cavern, twisting into grotesque humanoid shapes. Some had faces frozen in silent screams, others were smooth and featureless, tipped with jagged claws dripping with crimson energy.
Kratos' voice cut through the oppressive hum. "Do not hesitate. Strike only where you must. Every wasted effort strengthens them."
Atreus fired arrows in a rapid volley, threads lacing each shot to bind and tear the shadows. Screams echoed through the cavern, though no sound passed their ears—these were whispers of the Realm, clawing at their minds. Yet, for each shadow destroyed, two more rose from the crimson mist that curled along the cavern floor.
From the darkness, a figure emerged. Towering, impossibly large, its body a fusion of stone and shadow, veins of crimson energy pulsing with life. Its eyes glowed like molten coals, intelligent, malevolent, aware.
"You trespass," it intoned, voice echoing in their skulls. "You will fall. All who reach this place fall. None survive the Throne of Shadows."
Kratos' eyes narrowed. "We define our survival."
The figure lunged, tendrils of shadow whipping violently. Kratos rolled and swung the Leviathan Axe, frost erupting, shredding limbs of darkness. Atreus fired arrows continuously, threads lacing each strike, binding tendrils to jagged stones.
But the figure adapted instantly, twisting its limbs in impossible ways. Each attack they delivered informed it, making it stronger, faster, more unpredictable.
"It's learning faster than before!" Atreus shouted. "Every strike… every defense!"
Kratos' voice was a blade. "Then we force it to learn faster than it can handle. Precision. Discipline. Strike with purpose."
He leapt onto its massive arm, running along its writhing, shadow-laden surface. Frost spread, cracking crimson veins. The figure shrieked, a silent scream that clawed at their sanity.
Atreus lashed threads outward, yanking tendrils into jagged stone. "Father… it's feeding on the Realm itself! Every move we make strengthens it!"
Kratos growled. "Then we give it no choice. Strike harder. Strike faster. End this before it regenerates."
He drove the Leviathan Axe deep into its chest, frost erupting violently, scattering fragments of shadow into the crimson mist. The creature thrashed, tendrils lashing wildly, but Kratos' strikes and Atreus' threads kept it constrained, forcing it toward the Throne.
The Throne pulsed violently, crimson veins flaring, responding to the creature's agony. The cavern quaked, jagged stones splitting, shadows rising in waves from the floor.
"Father! The Throne—it's alive!" Atreus shouted, fear and awe threading his voice. "It reacts to its guardian! We must strike it directly!"
Kratos' eyes narrowed. "Not yet. We must weaken its protector first. One mistake, and we fall into the abyss."
The figure lunged again, massive tendrils sweeping toward them. Kratos rolled and swung the Leviathan Axe, frost shredding the shadows. The creature faltered, slower this time.
Atreus fired fracture-infused arrows into the veins of crimson energy. Sparks erupted as shadows fractured, the creature's body destabilizing further.
Kratos' voice cut through the cavern. "Now. Together."
They advanced in unison. Kratos struck deep into the creature's chest, frost shattering veins of crimson energy. Atreus' threads coiled tightly, yanking tendrils into jagged stone. The figure reeled, shadows collapsing inward, while the Throne pulsed violently in reaction.
Kratos leapt high, driving the Leviathan Axe directly into the base of the Throne. Frost spread, shards of shadow exploding outward. The guardian creature screamed, imploding violently as fragments of shadow dissolved into the crimson mist.
The cavern quaked violently one final time. Mist swirled. Shadows dissipated. Silence fell—a suffocating, heavy calm.
Kratos and Atreus stood, bloodied, frost clinging to their bodies, every muscle taut. Their breaths were heavy, but their resolve unbroken.
"Atreus," Kratos said, voice low, deadly, "we've survived the Throne's guardian. But the Realm… it's far from finished. It will adapt. And it will strike again."
Atreus nodded, threads dimming along his arms. "It's afraid now, Father… but not defeated. We've made it hesitate."
Kratos' eyes scanned the cavern. "Fear is temporary. Survival is permanent. We move forward. The spiral continues beyond this Throne. Every step is a challenge… but we endure, or we die."
The crimson mist swirled, retreating slightly but still alive, still watching. The Throne pulsed faintly, a scarred heartbeat, alive and aware.
Kratos tightened his grip on the Leviathan Axe. "This Realm tests us, boy. But we endure. And we will endure… or die trying."
The whispers returned, faint and insistent, promises of terror, despair, and pain. But Kratos and Atreus ignored them. Focus was absolute. Resolve unshakable.
The Throne pulsed weakly, scarred from their attacks, a reminder that the Realm's true challenge lay ahead.
Kratos muttered under his breath. "This is only the beginning. The Realm has more to show us… and when it does, we will be ready."
The crimson mist swirled, shadows coalescing beyond perception. Every heartbeat was a warning. Every step a test.
The darkness of the Seventh Realm was patient. Merciless. Hungry.
Kratos and Atreus pressed forward, together, into the unknown abyss, aware that what awaited them beyond the Throne would challenge everything they were—and everything they believed.