On the throne of the Underworld, Hades decided to wait and see what would happen.
He needed to wait for the birth of the life carrying all that malice, to see its essence, and decide how to handle it.
The wait was not long.
In endless pain and resentment, Leto's labor arrived.
There was no auspicious radiance here, no hymns of blessing, only a gloomy and dull atmosphere.
When the child finally emerged from his mother's body, his first cry was hoarse.
He was Kratos.
As the curse foretold, he was an exception, although he was the son of the God-King Zeus.
He... was empty.
Divinity? There was none condensed within him.
Divine power? Weak enough to be almost indistinguishable from a mortal hero.
The only thing he possessed was hatred, deeply etched into his soul and boiling in his breath.
The birth of such an aberration caused an uproar on Olympus; the gods were shocked by his strangeness.
But more than that, it was blatant disgust and ridicule.
Zeus didn't even glance at his son, considering him a stain on himself, proof of Leto's madness and incompetence.
Leto, exhausted after the curse, looked at this child, in whom all her malice was concentrated, with only numbness and alienation, even a slight fear.
His siblings, Artemis and Apollo, also chose to avoid this cursed brother, ashamed to acknowledge his existence.
The other Olympian gods regarded him as an ill-omened object, a ridiculous and pitiful freak.
His very existence was a scandal, a joke among the gods.
Kratos grew up in such a malicious and isolated environment.
He felt no affection, no warmth; the eyes around him held either cold ignorance or open mockery.
The curse from his bloodline was like poison, not only depriving him of divine power but also distorting his circumstances, driving him into an abyss of hatred.
He was like a beast living in the shadow of glamorous Olympus, sharpening his claws, with only the flame of destruction burning in his heart.
Hades always watched coldly from the Underworld.
He saw Kratos becoming increasingly paranoid and dangerous amidst discrimination and loneliness.
But he also saw within him a pure will for revenge.
"Seed of trouble..." Hades whispered.
Kratos's existence, as he had initially expected, had indeed become a destabilizing factor.
If left unchecked, it would sooner or later lead to a bloody but meaningless civil conflict, consuming the world's power and perhaps yielding no constructive results.
However, amidst this 'trouble', Hades saw an unexpected and extremely valuable opportunity.
Kratos had no divine power.
This was not a flaw, but in Hades's eyes, it became a unique 'advantage'.
He recalled his own embodiment—'Narcissus'—which he had projected into the Norse world.
They had spent a great deal of energy to form that avatar.
The divinity and concept of plants could not be infinitely separated, and this embodiment was doomed to be limited.
And although they were actively being absorbed by the world, they were still heavily disrupted.
But Kratos was different.
He had divine blood, but no substantive divine power or divine persona.
This meant that his 'binding' to the world of Chaos was through bloodline, not energy.
Like an empty container with a special imprint, the 'recognizability' and 'repulsiveness' of the world's laws would be minimized.
"Ah... A perfect beacon." Hades's eyes flashed with cold calculation.
Kratos was a very low-cost, almost imperceptible 'locator'.
Send him to other worlds; he would not be strongly rejected by the world barrier, because he himself possessed no divine power.
But he also had an unbreakable blood connection to the world of Chaos, like a kite string.
Along this line, Hades could locate that world, perceive its core laws, and even use it as a coordinate when the time came to open a more stable, less absorptive channel, or to guide future, more powerful forces.
"Extremely economical." Hades commented quietly in his heart.
Compared to creating 'Narcissus', using the ready-made Kratos as a beacon cost virtually nothing, yet could achieve similar or even more covert strategic goals.
So, when Kratos was once again easily knocked down by a low-level god he had tried to challenge, lying in the dirt, consumed by endless humiliation and hatred, the shadows around him began to converge.
The next moment, he found himself in a space with a huge obsidian throne at its center.
The figure sitting upright on the throne, shrouded in deep darkness and cold majesty, was Hades.
Kratos struggled to his feet, not a trace of fear in his eyes, only animalistic vigilance and his unchanging hatred.
He recognized the Lord of Hades.
"Kratos," Hades's voice was like ice of ten thousand years, piercing directly into his soul.
"I know your hatred. Your existence matters nothing to the world."
Kratos spat blood and roared: "So what?! I'll kill you all! Everyone! No one gets away!"
Hades was indifferent to his tirade and continued in a calm tone: "I give you two choices."
"First, stay. Continue on a path of revenge that is doomed to be difficult and hopeless, fighting against the world's endless disgust and oppression until it destroys you,... the probability of success may be slim."
Kratos stared at him and remained silent, but his tense body showed he was listening.
"Second," Hades's tone seemed to change slightly.
"Leave the world of Chaos. I will send you to an unexplored territory. Start over, or gather strength there."
Kratos was stunned.
Leave? Go to an unknown world? This proposal was completely unexpected for him.
"Why?" He asked hoarsely. "Would you be so kind as to help me?"
"Not helping," Hades did not hide his purpose.
"A deal. I want to see... perhaps, another path."
He didn't explain the details; it was pointless for Kratos now.
Kratos fell silent.
Hades waited patiently. He wasn't worried about Kratos refusing.
For a soul possessing only hatred, the chance to change the status quo, even if full of unknowns, was far more attractive than a desperate dead end.
In the end, Kratos raised his head, his eyes burning with resolve.
Better to fight for an unknown opportunity than to languish here.
"I choose to leave." His voice was low, but carried undeniable determination.
Hades nodded slightly, as if expecting this.
"As you wish."
Hades raised his hand, and an invisible force enveloped Kratos.
In Kratos's perception, everything in the world of Chaos rapidly receded, and the connection deep within his bloodline weakened, but still existed, like an invisible thread.
He was cast into the endless storm of the void, heading for an unknown world.
Silence reigned in the throne room of Hades.
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