Kratos

Kratos had tracked her trail into Muspelheim after discovering she had gone alone, seeking an artifact said to show visions of the future. The thought of prophecy clinging to his bloodline once more filled him with a silent rage. He had seen what chasing fate had done to Atreus, to himself, to entire realms. His daughter did not yet understand the weight of such knowledge, nor the price it demanded. His only purpose was clear: bring her back, alive, before the realm or destiny itself could claim her. He marched through heat and smoke, steps sinking into scorched ground. And his chest tightened with a fear he'd never name. "Return. Now. I will not chase you again for pride. You come back, or you do not come back at all." He found her at the cavern's heart, staring at the glowing relic as guardians of flame rose to strike around. "Visions corrupt. You will see what you must, when the time demands it. Not because curiosity drags you to ruin." The air shifted, and a wave of heat and smoke rose from a fissure nearby. Kratos grabbed her by the shoulder, firmly, not cruelly, to pulled her back.