This game caught me by surprise. I'd heard the praise for its poignant world and story, but I was woefully unprepared for the narrative brilliance. I was struck by the incredible growth of the two main characters – how their arcs intertwined, how father and son struggled to connect yet clung to each other. Kratos’s masculinity, while imperfect, is beautiful and instructive. Themes of virtuous masculinity permeate the story: righteous anger vs. rage, humility vs. ego, the responsibility of strength, and the relentless hope that we can be better.
Kratos was once a rage-fueled specter of vengeance in Greek myth. Old Kratos was motivated by pride, guilt, and unyielding anger. He became a monster through his choices. Yet, the previous trilogy ended not with irredeemable damnation, but with a glimmer of hope – an understanding of power’s corruption and the necessity of hope.
In Midgard, he attempts to bury this past, living as a mortal, building a new family. But the weight of his sins haunts him. His fear of the monster within causes him to distance himself from his son, Atreus. He loves the boy, but is paralyzed by the fear of harming him, forgetting to teach him how to live, not just survive.
The death of Faye forces Kratos and Atreus together, yet both remain isolated by trauma. Kratos’s initial teaching is utilitarian, harsh, and disconnected: "Figure it out, boy."
Atreus desperately seeks approval and connection. Kratos’s frustration often mirrors his own past failings – seeing his vices reflected in his son is agonizing. Their journey to scatter Faye’s ashes starts as a singular, rigid mission for Kratos.
Atreus, shielded from the world, displays idealism and a desire to help others, contrasting Kratos’s wartime pragmatism: "Not everything is war." Faye, though never seen, is the catalyst. Her wisdom, embodied in her war to "protect the weak" and her final request, forces the path towards connection.
Small cracks appear in Kratos’s armor. After Atreus kills in self-defense, Kratos offers unexpected tenderness: "Close your heart to it." In Alfheim, witnessing Atreus’s fear and anger during his absence, Kratos offers his first unprompted comfort: "In the light, I felt only moments pass... if that is of some comfort." This signifies a shift – loving not just for survival, but for connection. However, Kratos’s lack of true humility and self-acceptance prevents full honesty.
He denies their godhood, fearing its corrupting influence and his own past. This secrecy backfires catastrophically when Atreus falls ill, his body rejecting the dissonance between his believed mortality and true nature. Faced with losing his son, Kratos confronts his deepest fear: his own history. Retrieving the Blades of Chaos, he defies Athena’s ghostly taunt ("You will always be a monster") with: "I know. But I am your monster no longer." He accepts his past but claims a new purpose: his son.
Revealing their godhood to Atreus unleashes his repressed pride. Feeling weak and insignificant before, he now relishes his perceived power: "We're gods, we can do whatever we want!" Kratos tries to impart the weight of responsibility ("With power comes a choice... serve yourself or serve others"), but struggles, burdened by his own sins. Atreus’s ego peaks with the arrogant murder of Modi. Kratos shares partial blame; his secrecy allowed Atreus to misunderstand godhood’s true burden. Their relationship fractures further atop the mountain. Atreus, fueled by pride and anger, nearly repeats Kratos’s deadliest sin – patricide.
Kratos’s stern rebuke in Helheim ("You are rash, insubordinate... This will not stand!") echoes his own flaws. He invokes Faye and the possibility of change: "It is not too late."
The final confrontation with Baldur embodies the consequences of untempered love and withheld truth. Freya’s self-indulgent "protection" cursed Baldur, breeding a century of resentment. Kratos, recognizing the cycle of vengeance ("This path... vengeance... you will find no peace"), intervenes. When Baldur threatens Freya, Kratos makes a choice born of hard-won wisdom: "The cycle ends here. We must be better." He kills Baldur to save Freya, accepting the consequences. Faced with Freya’s hatred ("You will never change!"), Kratos doesn’t argue. Instead, he turns to Atreus and reveals the full, horrific truth of Sparta, his deals with gods, his indiscriminate killings, and his ultimate sin: patricide. This vulnerability is the apex of his growth.
At Jötunheim’s peak, Kratos achieves profound humility. Showing Faye’s prophecy mural, he states: "I have nothing more to hide." He accepts his flawed past not as a life sentence, but as a lesson. The revelation that Faye intended Atreus to be named "Loki" is juxtaposed with Kratos explaining his chosen name: Atreus, after a Spartan soldier who embodied hope and humanity amidst grim duty. His sacrifice saved others. Kratos’s final lesson resonates: "We will be the gods we choose to be. Not those who have been. We must be better. We always have a choice." True masculinity, as embodied by Kratos’s journey, isn't brute strength, but the rejection of self-serving power. It is found in:
