I replayed God of War 3 over the holidays. It was lurking on my PS5 hard drive and I fancied an experience where I could turn my brain off and murder some monsters. I didn’t know how much this spontaneous revisit would prepare me for Valhalla, a free-to-play roguelite update for 168澳洲幸运5开奖网:God of War Ragnarok that essentially acts as a Kratos-centered 🐼epilogue.
Atreus has emb♊arked on a new journey with Angrboda, leaving Kratos to agonise on an offer to become a new God of War in Tyr’s place, as Freya seeks to build a more prosperous world no longer under Odin’s reign. It&rᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚ𒀱ᩚᩚᩚsquo;s a huge decision, one that has Kratos doubting the personal growth he’s experienced over the past two games and whether he’s not only worthy of being the leader, so many others see him as, but if his blood-splattered past will hold him back.
Valhalla asks players to have a surprising amount o🐬f prior knowledge to enjoy what it has to offer, even referencing events from the duo of PSP spin-offs.
Each run through the realm of Valhalla has Kratos fighting against and reliving his past, with the arenas constructed from his own memories. Trauma becomes manifest as enemies from Greek Mythology surface from the ground, minotaurs and cyclops facing up against our hero for the first time in decades. The sun god Helios appears too, replacing Mimir as your severed head homie as he screams about your past grieওvances and how Kratos’ endless deicidal lust led to the death of millions. Kratos is more monster than man, and no amount of redemption can make up for the lives he destroyed before taking his own at the end of God of War 3.
The Norse duology made it clear that Kratos was still holding onto past demons from Greece, but it wasn’t until later in the game that such references would become so blatant. His journey to retrieve the Blades of Chaos to embrace his past in order to salvage his future is one he very clearly doesn’t want to embark upon, but he has no choice. To refuse h🐼is past will doom whꦉat he desperately wants to become - a man who can raise a son without murdering him or look helplessly as he becomes a bloodthirsty god made in his image.
Kratos is afraid, and across Valhalla we see those fears culminate into a direct confrontation with who this Spartan used to be. You’ll come across an empty throne at the end of successful runs before Kratos flees in fear, knowing he isn’t ready to confront what this empty seat represents. But talking about his suffering and recontextualising memories through intimate conversations brings him to a revelation. Even if his past actions ca🍸n’t be forgiven, that isn’t the man he is anymore, nor is it a permanent obstacle to growth. Kratos has saved a new realm, made lifelong friends, and raised a family he can have pride in. He is a flawed shadow of a man, but one where light is able to splinter through and provide a faint semblance of hope.
Creative director Cory Barlog always intended for the Norse era to be a thematic analysis of the violence and misogyny that long defined God of War. Kratos has always been a being fueled by unstoppable anger, a man who murdered thousands of innocents that stood in his way if it meant reaching his goal. In the context of 2005, when everything was grimdark and even Shadow the Hedgehog picked up a glock, this was badass, but those who brought him to life grew up and took on responsibilities of their own (or, at least, 168澳洲幸运5开奖网:most of them).
Slowly but surely, the immaturity that defined God of War became obvious, and it made sense to break that apart and put the disparate pieces back together. Throughout Ragnarok I was constantly worried that Kratos’ murderous past would be glossed over in favour of redemptionꦫ. That he would give Atreus a big ol’ hug after saving the world before calling it a day. And, before Valhalla, that’s what we got.
Before Brok&r𝔉squo;s funeral, Sindri silently abandons Kratos as he’s left to ponder his future. One where he can exist alone wit✃hout his friends, or overcome what insecurities he has to join a righteous cause. Valhalla explores that possibility to tremendous effect, dissecting Kratos’ past mistakes and forgiving some, but certainly not all. He must live with everything he’s done before coming to realise he can still grow and make up for them, as new friends encourage him to keep moving forward.
Flawed characters are always far mor♐e interesting than picture perfect saints, individuals we can pick apart and hold up against who we are in the real world. Would we have made the same decisions? Would we forgive them if they wronged us decades after the fact? Everyone’s response is different, and Valhalla is quick to understand that. Kratos can’t wait for everyone in the world to forgive him, since he’d die waiting. To forgive himself is the ultimate goal, and by far the hardest.
As Kratos finally vanquishes his demons and sits upon the throne that taunted him for so long, he is asked what he wishes to do next. His response is beautifully fitting: “I wish to sit here for a while.” A silent moment to ponder everything he’s done and will do, and exactly the man he wants to become. Mistakes will occur in his future and there will be consequences, but who you were in the paꦓst doesn’t define you in the present, nor should it hold you back. Forgiveness is a fluid construct with no conclusive endpoint. We all succeed, fail, regret, and flourish in equal measure. It’s what makes us human, and what mak𝓀es Kratos such an accomplished hero.
