Chaos consumed the world around him. Angry clouds black as tar loomed heavy and covered the whole sky, stretching as far as he could see and casting the world below into darkness. Great whirling cyclones issued forth from these dark overlords of cloud, their swirling slender bodies twisting and bending as if they were alive and dancing to the tune of total anarchy.
Bolts of lightning thundered by the dozens without rhyme or reason, tracing twisted and jagged lines across the sky in brilliant flashes of light. Drops of rain like tiny pebbles fell endlessly from the sky and were pushed sideways by the howling winds of the mightiest tempest ever seen in this part of the world.
Beneath all of this, what little dark masses of land remained were surrounded by the dark waters of the Mediterranean, the roiling sea sending great walls of water hundreds of feet high every which way. The waves crashed angrily upon the side of Mount Olympus, and he could have sworn the greatest mountain he had ever known shook to the very roots of the world with each powerful slap from the sea, as if the great body of water was trying to knock it over.
This was it. This was the end of the world. And it had been brought about by his own selfish actions.
Kratos grunted in pain as he slumped to the ground, feeling his strength ebbing away. The gaping hole that tore straight through much of his torso would have killed nearly anyone else instantly, but not him. Not the great and mighty Kratos. A man who became a god and destroyed the very world in his quest for vengeance. In his quest for peace.
No, such a devastating wound killed him slowly instead. Taking agonizingly painful minutes when it should have taken but a brief second. Perhaps it was part of his punishment for all he had done, and all he had failed to do.
The hard drops of rain continued to pelt him and the harsh wind blew relentlessly against his heavy frame. His head lolled on the hard and rocky ground, eyes blinking slowly as his gaze fixated on the pools and rivers of crimson blood right where he lay. His blood. He had spilled an ocean's worth of it in his long campaign, the blood of humans, creatures, and gods, and everything in between. Now it seemed fitting that his own blood leaving him would be the last thing he'd see in this dying world.
He shut his eyes, too weak to keep them open as he hung onto life by a hairsbreadth. In the cold darkness that gradually consumed him, he felt what he had still been too shocked to comprehend since slaying his father, Zeus, and then turning his own blade against himself. That feeling that had long escaped him.
Long had his mind and soul been ravaged with an anger and hatred that burned without rival, fueled by his desire for vengeance against those who had turned him into the monster that he had become. To have committed such a terrible crime that had taken him to the end of the world in order to find forgiveness.
But now, he felt the fire that had always raged within was gone. And here at the end of all things, Kratos finally knew peace.
Or so he thought.
AN: Just a fun little idea I had that I wanted to get down. It's probably been done before. Idk. I haven't searched to find if this crossover exists already as of the time of this writing. I've only written one full chapter (will post soon) and have a rough outline. I'm not expecting greatness, but it'll certainly have it's moments I think lol. Especially with a protagonist like Kratos playing around in Skyrim (maybe the rest of Tamriel too?). Updates will depend on when I find time between everything else I'm doing. If any of you are reading this wondering about my other works, don't worry updates are coming soon! Just been busy, plus writer's block, illness, and other life stuff.