28 The Other Brain

'Just take the boy. It should be easy for a level 6 like you,' Freya's words echo through Allen's mind like a petty taunt. The cat-like man has been frustrated by his goddess' thirst for adventurers with potential since joining her familia, but recently, her thirst has grown exponentially for a certain man and his son. Freya had tasked Allen with this because of his title as the fastest adventurer in Orario, and even with the mention of a tattooed man, Fromel had full confidence that he could complete his task.

Allen's black hair is assaulted by the rush of the air as he rockets at an incredible speed. His blue eyes are glued to the tower that plummets towards him, and despite the obvious chance of death before him, Allen finds himself unable to take his mind off the man that put him in this situation. However, as a large window and glowing purple eyes take over his vision suddenly, the thought is taken over by a rather feminine scream from the man.

Allen crashes through the window, and his body slams into the floor of a large room, skipping like a pebble across a lake until he smashes into the wall. A thud echos through the room as Allen falls to the carpet, his body unmoving as blood leaks from his head. Suddenly, heavy footsteps gather beside the feline's body, and Ottar kneels over him. The large man puts two fingers below Allen's chin, and he hums as he glances back, "He's alive," Ottar's deep voice flows quietly.

The person in question, Freya, stands with that black and red dress covering parts of her body, and that golden ratio body shakes as she walks over to Ottar, "move," she mutters with cold eyes. Her command is followed, and the goddess kneels beside Allen with furrowed brows. Freya's eyes narrow as she stares at the cat-like man, and after a moment, she puts a warm hand to his forehead. A purple light shines dimly between her fingers, and suddenly, Allen gasps as he bolts to a sitting position.

The feline's wide eyes dart around the room in confusion, but as his blue eyes meet Freya's violet, Allen sighs in relief, "...Thank you, Freya," he mutters as his ears droop to his hair.

Freya nods, standing with furrowed brows as she stares at Allen, "What happened? Where is the boy?" she asks.

Allen raises his brows, and his eyes drift to the red carpet and shards of glass. A moment of silence passes, and the man stands, facing his goddess with pursed lips, "Freya, we have to leave them alone..." he says as his eyes trail to the shattered window, "...I'm level six, one of the highest levels in the city, but... That tattooed man held me back easily. It was as if he wasn't even trying."

Freya furrows her brows, but suddenly, her lips curl slightly, "He's that strong? But his soul wasn't even..." The Goddess turns to the window, and her lips part as she stares deep into the city. In what Freya infers is Daedelus Street, a massive concentration of energy that reaches to the clouds enters her vision. Like a raging flame, the soul burns a deep crimson with wisps of black flowing throughout. The Goddess stands speechless, and like a moth to a flame, she finds herself drawn to the soul, "...Why is it only visible now? His soul seemed so ordinary... Something must have changed," she mutters to herself.

"What is it, Freya?" Allen steps up beside his goddess, staring into her starstruck face with furrowed brows.

Freya jolts, glancing at Allen before she returns to that soul, "Allen... You never mentioned why you smashed my window," she says.

Allen raises his brows, and just like the woman beside him, his eyes roam over the city, "...He threw me..." he mutters.

Freya cocks her head back, "What?" she asks.

"That tattooed man... He threw me. All the way from Daedelus Street," Allen responds.

Despite the spectacle before her, the goddess stares at Allen with wide eyes. Though after a moment, her lips curl once again, and a giddy feeling rises in her chest, "...I do appreciate the warning, Allen, Truly. However, if you think I would pass up on this, then you do not know me," Freya says.

Allen sighs, his eyes dropping to the carpet again, "...Whatever you say, my goddess."

---

"So your name is Atreus?" A teasing voice rings out in the streets of the red-light district. The night sky blankets the city of Orario, and a certain group steps cozy under it.

"Y-yeah," Atreus responds with a red hue splashed on his cheeks. He glances at a tall woman walking beside him, his youthful height causing his eyes to level with her bosom. The same woman from Dimitri's office travels with them, and a black silk dress hangs loosely from her shoulders. Her pale cleavage rocks up and down as long legs click against the paved street.

The woman's curly blonde hair bounces against her shoulders as she giggles with a hand to her red lips. She seems to find enjoyment in the boy's torture, "Nice to meet you, Atreus. My name is Sophia," she says with that same teasing voice.

A few feet behind the public torture, Kratos walks with his eyes settled on the back of Atreus' head. The stench of ale, sex, and tobacco mix together in the god's nostrils as he glances at scantily clad women and red-faced men. The streets are narrow in this so-called red-light district, and vibrant colors leak through the windows of the surrounding buildings.

"Brother, I need to speak with you about something... While the boy is preoccupied," Mimir breaks Kratos' concentration.

Kratos hums, "Go on," he responds.

Mimir clears his throat, "Ah, well, I know you and the boy have bigger things to worry about, but... I believe the birds and bees need to be explained to Atreus. Soon," he says.

Kratos scoffs, "I have noticed..." he sighs as his eyes return to his son.

Mimir chuckles, "I understand, brother. It's just- The boy is developing his second brain right now... And I'm sure you are privy to how absolutely ignorant that brain can be..." he says, his words turning to a mutter, "...I've served my time taming that brain."

Kratos hums with distracted eyes. A certain discomfort sets in the god's chest as he thinks of the dour conversation that will need to take place. It's at times like this that the Ghost of Sparta wishes he had a normal father. Instead, he had been stuck with the king of gods, a man that was not exactly known to keep his tool in his pants.

"Well, here we are!" Sophia says with a smile, that black dress shaking over plump assets. She gestures to an arch entryway of a building, different colored beads hanging from the threshold. A sweet smell overpowers the lingering stench as Atreus nears the entrance, and Sophia turns to face the boy, "Thank you for escorting me!... I've heard too many times of girls like me being kidnapped during the night, so really, thank you," she says.

Atreus smiles at Sophia, trying his absolute hardest to keep his eyes on hers, "You're welcome..." he says, his eyes drifting past those beads to see a group of stark naked women relaxing on a large sofa, their lips wrapped around strange tubes running to a vase-like contraption on a table. That heat makes its presence known once again, and Atreus furrows his brows as he turns to walk away, his eyes glued to the ground.

Kratos looks to Sophia, and the beautiful woman waves with a smile, "Thanks!" she says.

The God nods, turning to walk with Atreus. He glances down at the dour atmosphere surrounding the boy and sets a rough hand to his shoulder, "What is it, Atreus?" Kratos asks.

Atreus glances up at his father with pursed lips, "It's nothing..." he responds, returning his eyes to the smooth street of the red-light district. That heat leaves him, and as the cold night sets on his pale skin, Atreus looks up at his father once again, "...Father, do women have some kind of magic that I don't know about?" he asks.

Kratos furrows his brows, "What?" he responds, a very Scottish chuckle following his words.

Atreus' icy blue eyes roam to the street as he attempts to organize his thoughts, "...It's like- Every time I'm around a pretty girl I can't even think straight. All I can do is stare at them like I'm stupid," he says.

Kratos chuckles lightly, and along with him, Mimir's cackle blasts through the streets. Suddenly, the Faerie gasps though, "Wait... Brother, did you just laugh?" he asks in disbelief.

Atreus meets his father's brown eyes, furrowing his brows as he notices the slight smile buried under that thick beard, "What was funny about that?" he asks.

Kratos sighs, patting his son's shoulder before lowering his hand, "No, It is not magic. We will speak about it after meeting with Dimitri again..." he grimaces, "...We need a bottle."

"I'm sorry for begging, Father..." Atreus says, "...But I've been feeling weird at the pub. It's like that feeling I get in the dungeon... Like someone is watching me."

Kratos hums, "I have noticed the same thing... Do not worry, I will not let anyone hurt us. You should know that by now," his grisly voice floats through the air.

"I haven't had a strong man in months. What about you, Samira?"

"Me neither. It's been... Well, I have no idea how long it's been."

"Mhm. Who knows, maybe one will just bump into us-"

Kratos' eyes are focused on his son, but suddenly, the God feels something bump into his shoulder. He furrows his brows as his vision roams to the disturbance, and what he finds causes the furrow to deepen. Two women stand before him with mischievous smiles on their lips. To the right, a tanned woman stands with long black hair covering one side of her face. A thin purple fabric holds her voluptuous bosom in place, and same color, nearly transparent baggy pants cover her long legs.

The other woman has short silver hair and brown eyes. Despite the chilly night air, she wears merely a white bathing suit that covers her assets, ones that do not lose out to the woman beside her.

The tanned woman's smile widens, and she leans forward slightly as she stares at Kratos, "Oh ho! Hello there..." a teasing voice reaches the ears of the gods before her.