God of War Ragnarok - The End of an Era?
Chills. That's the word that keeps coming back to me. A fast-paced story that builds and builds until the ending gives you goosebumps you didn't know you were capable of feeling.
Before Ragnarok
The 2018 game set the anchor for this soft reboot. It proved that Kratos could be more than rage, that a God of War game could make you cry, that Santa Monica Studio knew exactly what they were doing. So going into Ragnarok, I expected more of the same. A continuation. A good sequel that plays it safe.
I was wrong. Some sections went beyond anything I expected. The redesigned skill mechanics alone had me questioning why every action game doesn't work this way.
I was pretty hyped going in. I'd played the 2018 game numerous times, especially grinding for that Zeus and Ares inspired armor. But I had concerns. The title worried me. Ragnarok. The end of everything. Either this game was going to be absurdly long, or the pacing would feel rushed trying to cram the apocalypse into a reasonable runtime.
I was right about one of those things.
The Story: Fate Written in Giant Blood
Three years after Fimbulwinter began. Kratos and Atreus hunt deer for resources. Freya wants revenge for her dead son. And prophecy hangs over everything like a storm that refuses to break.
The pacing is strange. I won't pretend otherwise. The game wants to do everything. Freya's revenge. Atreus discovering who he is. Saving Tyr. Kratos learning to let go. Teenager rebellion. God-killing. And oh yeah, the literal end of the world. It's a lot. Sometimes it feels like the game is sprinting through plot points that deserve more room to breathe.
But when it works? It really works.
The standout moments aren't the epic battles. They're the quieter beats where we finally understand both father and son. In 2018, we watched a god trying to be human, and a human trying to understand the weight of godhood. Ragnarok goes deeper. It's about opening your heart. And yes, Faye is here. Kratos's wife. Atreus's mother. The woman we never met in the first game but felt everywhere.
She appears in a dream sequence, and she is beautiful. Not just visually. Her words planted themselves in my brain like nothing else in gaming has.
"Open your heart to the world as you have opened it to me, and you will find every reason to keep living in it."
I'm getting chills again just writing that.
The Path to Ragnarok
Let me walk through the major beats, because this game covers a lot of ground.
It starts with Freya hunting Kratos, still consumed by grief over Baldur. Our first boss fight isn't some monster or god. It's Atreus himself, transformed into a bear through powers he doesn't yet understand. The kid can shapeshift. Cool power.
Then Thor shows up. Second boss fight. Let's fucking go.
From there, Kratos reluctantly follows his son's need to understand Ragnarok. Mimir provides the context. They learn that everything has been written. Prophecy carved in stone by giants who could see the future. Both of them explore Svartalfheim, a realm we couldn't access in 2018, and rescue Tyr. The god of war who chose peace. A legend. A symbol of hope.
Except... well. We'll get to that.
Atreus seeks answers from Freya about who he really is. Jörmungandr, his future son, tells him about Ironwood. The kid literally dreams his way there and meets Angrboda, another giant, his future wife in the mythology. His powers keep growing in ways that feel earned.
Meanwhile, Kratos and Freya form an uneasy alliance. He helps her break the curse binding her to Midgard in Vanaheim, a new realm that's jungle and ruins. When Freya left to marry Odin, the realm's balance got wrecked, and war followed. She redirects her vengeance toward its true target: Odin.
Then Atreus does what teenagers do. He ignores everyone telling him no and forces his way into Asgard. Odin promised him answers. The Allfather shows him the rift, the mask, the fragments that need recovering. Atreus becomes a pawn in a game he doesn't fully understand. There he meets the whole family. Odin, Sif, Thor, Thrud, and Heimdall. Fuck that guy.
Kratos, terrified for his son, visits the Norns with Mimir and Freya. There he learns Heimdall plans to kill Atreus. So Kratos does what Kratos does. He finds a way to kill the unkillable.
The Draupnir Spear. Forged from a ring that duplicates infinitely, designed specifically to bypass Heimdall's foresight. When Kratos finally puts that spear through him, it's earned. Heimdall was Hermes 2.0, arrogant and untouchable, until he wasn't. And Kratos takes the Gjallarhorn.
Then comes the betrayal.
After Atreus recovers the complete mask, everyone gathers at Brok and Sindri's home. They're planning how to bring Ragnarok to Asgard. Then Tyr mentions a new way into Asgard. Brok catches it. The whole time they've known Tyr, he never mentioned this before. Something's wrong.
And then Tyr kills Brok.
The Tyr we've known since the beginning. The symbol of hope. The peaceful god of war. He was Odin the entire time. Wearing Týr's face. Living among them. Gathering information. And when it served him, he murdered the dwarf who had become family.
I don't have words for how that hit. Not just Sindri. Everyone. The whole group is broken by it.
And it leaves a question hanging. If that was Odin the whole time, where is the real Týr? That answer comes in Valhalla. A story for another review.
In the grief that follows, Kratos and Atreus go home. Atreus asks his father to go hunting, trying to escape the pain. They find an elk. Atreus raises his bow. And Kratos stops him. He tells his son to stop running from the problem. Face it. Deal with it.
That moment is small, but it matters. Kratos teaching his son something he learned the hard way.
Then everyone gathers at Týr's temple. Kratos and Atreus travel to Muspelheim to persuade Surtr to start Ragnarok. There we learn more about Surtr and his wife, Sinmara. The fire giant agrees. Ragnarok begins.
Then comes the moment.
Kratos raises the Gjallarhorn. Everyone watches. And he blows it.
The sound that follows is something else. Every realm hears it. Every portal opens. Surtr becomes Ragnarok incarnate. The end of the world isn't a metaphor anymore. It's happening, and Kratos just started it.
Fucking cinematic. One of the best moments in the franchise.
And in the final moments, Atreus uses his giant magic to trap Odin's soul in a marble. Not killed. Contained. Sindri, still grieving Brok, is the one who destroys it. No Valhalla. No Helheim. The Allfather simply stops existing.
It's brutal. It's earned. And it's over.
Kratos: The God Who Learned to Let Go
In 2018, Kratos was learning to be a father. He was distant, cold, unable to say his son's name. By the end of that game, he'd started to open up. But Ragnarok asks something harder of him. He has to let go.
Every instinct Kratos has screams at him to protect Atreus. To keep him close. To fight anyone who threatens his boy. But Atreus isn't a boy anymore. He's becoming something else, and Kratos can't control that no matter how hard he tries. Watching Kratos struggle with this is painful in the best way. He's willing to kill gods, travel across realms, forge impossible weapons, anything to keep his son safe. But the one thing Atreus actually needs is something Kratos has never been good at. Trust. Freedom. The space to make his own choices and his own mistakes.
Faye's words haunt this entire game. Open your heart. It sounds simple. For a man who closed himself off after murdering an entire pantheon, it's the hardest thing he's ever been asked to do. Harder than killing Zeus. Harder than surviving Helheim. And he does it. Not perfectly. Not without struggle. But by the end, Kratos isn't just a father trying to protect his son. He's a father who trusts his son to walk his own path, even if that path leads somewhere Kratos can't follow. That's the kind of growth I didn't expect from the Ghost of Sparta.
Atreus: The Boy Who Became Loki
Atreus spends this entire game trying to answer one question: who am I? He knows he's Loki now. He knows he's part giant. He knows prophecy says he has a role to play in Ragnarok. But knowing facts isn't the same as understanding yourself. Atreus is caught between worlds. His father's legacy of violence. His mother's hope for something better. The expectations of the Jotnar who see him as their champion. The manipulations of Odin who sees him as a tool.
I understand that feeling. The need to discover who you are in this world. Your destiny. What you're capable of. Atreus carries the weight of being the "Champion of the Jotnar" without ever asking for it. Everyone wants something from him. Everyone has an opinion about what he should do. So he rebels. He sneaks off to Ironwood. He forces his way into Asgard against everyone's wishes. He makes choices that are reckless and dangerous and exactly what a teenager would do when they feel like no one is listening to them.
But here's what makes his arc work. He's not rebelling to be difficult. He's searching. Every choice he makes, even the bad ones, comes from a genuine need to understand himself before the world forces an identity on him. By the end, Atreus doesn't have all the answers. But he's made peace with that. He knows he needs to find the remaining giants. He knows his path leads somewhere different from his father's. And he's okay walking it alone. This isn't the scared kid from 2018 anymore.
Freya: Vengeance, Grief, and Letting Go
Freya starts this game as an enemy. She's consumed by grief for Baldur, hunting Kratos with everything she has. And honestly? You can't blame her. He killed her son. Even if Baldur was trying to kill her. Even if Kratos saved her life. A mother watched her child die, and that kind of pain doesn't care about context. What makes Freya compelling is watching that rage slowly transform. Kratos helps her break the curse binding her to Midgard. They fight side by side in Vanaheim. And somewhere along the way, the vengeance starts to feel hollow.
Freya realizes something important. Killing Kratos won't bring Baldur back. It won't undo her mistakes as a mother. It won't fill the emptiness. Odin is the real enemy. Odin who manipulated her. Odin who used her magic. Odin who set so many tragedies in motion. By the final battle, Freya isn't fighting for revenge anymore. She's fighting for something better. A future. A purpose beyond grief.
She even becomes a companion in gameplay, fighting alongside Kratos with her sword and Vanir magic. The queen of the Valkyries, elegant and deadly. It's a redemption arc that feels earned because it's messy. She doesn't forgive Kratos easily. She doesn't forget what he did. But she chooses to move forward anyway. That's harder than vengeance. And more powerful.
The Brothers: More Than Comic Relief
Brok and Sindri return, and they're more important than ever. In 2018, they were the funny dwarves who upgraded your gear and bickered constantly. They added levity to a heavy story. You liked them, but they were side characters. Ragnarok changes that. These two become family. They open their home to Kratos and the group. They're part of every major decision. Sindri's anxiety, Brok's gruff honesty, their complicated brotherhood, it all gets room to breathe. Which is why Brok's death destroys you.
When Odin reveals himself and kills Brok, it's not just a plot twist. You're losing someone you actually cared about. Someone who fixed your weapons, cracked jokes, and felt like he'd always be there. Sindri's grief afterward is hard to watch. The bright, nervous dwarf becomes hollow. And when he's the one who finally destroys Odin's soul, it's not triumphant. It's a grieving brother getting the only closure he can. I didn't expect to cry over a dwarf. This game made me.
Angrboda: The Giant Who Showed Atreus Freedom
Angrboda is different from what I expected. She's one of the last giants, living alone in Ironwood, and she becomes important to Atreus's journey of self-discovery. I'll be honest. When she was first revealed, there was discourse about the casting. I don't want to dwell on that. What matters is what she does in the game.
And what she does is show Atreus what's coming. She's trapped too, in her own way. The destiny of her people. Her mother's legacy. She carries the weight of being one of the last giants, and she knows things. She delivers the path of what will happen to Atreus, the prophecy he's been chasing. But even carrying all that, she still finds moments of peace. Racing through the forest. Painting murals. Just being teenagers for a few hours before destiny catches up.
She helps Atreus understand his path by showing him hers. Two kids burdened by things they never asked for, finding connection in that shared weight. That's her role. And she plays it well.
Mimir: The Head Who Seeks Redemption
Mimir is still the smartest head in the room, and he's still full of stories. But Ragnarok gives him something more: a redemption arc. In Svartalfheim, we learn about Lyngbakr. A creature Mimir helped capture in the past, trapped and used for its resources. When you find it, Mimir wants to set it free. It's his attempt to undo some of the harm he caused while serving Odin.
The moment when they release Lyngbakr is quiet. No fanfare. And the creature doesn't swim away. It just stays there, breathing fresh air in the lake for the first time in centuries. It's been trapped so long that it can't truly leave anymore. That's the lesson. Some things that happened, you can't undo. Mimir wanted redemption, wanted to fix what he helped break. But even with the chains gone, the damage remains. It's a small story in a game full of huge ones, but it stuck with me.
Surtr and Sinmara: Love Hidden in the Apocalypse
Surtr and Sinmara deserve more than a passing mention. The game's shrines tell their story. Surtr is meant to merge with Sinmara to become Ragnarok. But Surtr refuses. He won't let her be part of this destruction, even if it's what prophecy demands. So they find another way. Surtr discovers that the Blades of Chaos contain primordial flame, the same fire needed for the transformation. Combined with Sinmara's heart already inside his body, Ragnarok can happen without her. It's a love story hidden inside the apocalypse. Surtr protecting the woman he loves by becoming devastation alone.
The New Faces of Asgard
Odin: The Allfather of Manipulation
I need to talk about Richard Schiff's Odin, because he completely changed how I see the character. Before this game, I imagined Odin as powerful and buff. A warrior king. The kind of god who wins through strength. Santa Monica gave me something scarier. They gave me a manipulator. Odin doesn't need muscles when he has a brain that never stops calculating.
Every conversation with him feels dangerous. He's charming. Reasonable. He makes you want to believe him. When he promises Atreus answers, part of you thinks maybe he's sincere. Maybe the Allfather isn't so bad. He is. He's worse than bad. He wears Týr's face for the entire game. He kills Brok without hesitation. He sees everyone as pieces on a board, including his own family. The moment you start thinking of him as a person instead of a monster, you've already lost. That's what makes him terrifying. Not power. Control.
The depth of Odin's control is staggering when you step back and look at it. The Aesir bend to his will. Thor is his attack dog, kept loyal through a lifetime of emotional abuse. Heimdall is his enforcer, arrogant because Odin lets him be. Freya was his prisoner wife, her magic stolen and used against her own people. Even Baldur's curse came from Odin's manipulation of Freya's love. The Valkyries, corrupted and trapped in 2018, were his doing too. He took the warriors meant to guide the honored dead and turned them into monsters.
The dwarves built his weapons, including the war machine he unleashes in the final act to stop Ragnarok. Mimir was his advisor until he wasn't useful anymore. The Einherjar, the warriors of Valhalla, die and fight for him eternally, never questioning why. Týr, the actual god of peace, was locked away so Odin could wear his face and his reputation.
Everyone is a piece on his board. His own family. His enemies. Even the dead. That's what makes him the best villain this franchise has ever had. He doesn't need to swing a weapon. He makes everyone else swing theirs for him.
Thor: Odin's Broken Weapon
Forget Marvel's Thor. This Thor is massive, broken, and exactly what he should be.
Ryan Hurst delivers what Thor really is. Performance-wise, he's incredible. Every line carries weight. You hear the exhaustion in his voice. The self-loathing. The flicker of something that might have been good if Odin hadn't crushed it out of him.
He's Odin's weapon. A drunk who drowns his pain in mead and violence. A father who failed his sons. A god who knows he's being used but doesn't know how to be anything else. Fighting him feels tragic, not heroic. There's a moment late in the game where Thor has to choose. Follow his father's orders or become something different. The choice he makes... I won't spoil it. But it hit me harder than any boss fight.
Thor's family is falling apart, and you watch it happen. Sif isn't a warrior in this game. She's a mother trying to hold her family together while Odin tears it apart. She watches her husband drink himself into oblivion and her daughter chase a dangerous dream. Thrud wants to be a Valkyrie. She admires her father despite everything, trains with Atreus in Asgard, and refuses to see what everyone else can see. It's a family drowning in dysfunction, and it mirrors Kratos and Atreus in the worst way. Both fathers with legacies of violence. Both children trying to understand who they are. The difference is Kratos chose to change. Thor keeps choosing the bottle. And Sif? She just watches. Powerless to stop any of it.
Heimdall: Hermes 2.0
Heimdall can see the future. Not far, just enough to know what you're going to do before you do it. He's untouchable. Arrogant. Absolutely insufferable. Scott Porter voices him, and his delivery is something else. Every word out of Heimdall's mouth made my gut twist with the urge to punch him in the face. That smug condescension. That casual cruelty. Porter understood the assignment perfectly. Make the player hate this guy with every fiber of their being.
He's Hermes from the Greek saga all over again. The guy you want to kill the moment he opens his mouth. When Kratos finally puts him down with the Draupnir Spear, it's one of the most satisfying moments in the game. Good riddance.
The Norns: Fate Is a Choice
The Norns change everything. When Kratos visits them with Freya and Mimir, he expects to learn how to cheat fate. Instead, he learns there is no fate. The Norns don't control destiny. They just see what people will likely choose based on who they are. Prophecy isn't a prison. It's a prediction.
This reframes Groa's shrine from the first and this game. The murals show Ragnarok happening with the god of war leading armies against Asgard. Everyone assumed it meant Týr, the Norse god of war. But prophecy doesn't care about names. It cares about roles. The god of war who brings Ragnarok isn't Týr. It's Kratos. The Greek god of war fulfilling Norse prophecy.
And then they say it. "You will die, Kratos of Sparta." How that plays out? That's a story for the Valhalla review.
Combat: Everything Got Better
The 2018 combat was already excellent. Ragnarok took it apart and rebuilt it even better.
The Weapons
The Leviathan Axe still feels incredible. The sound when it returns to Kratos's hand? Still perfect. But now it has its own skill tree tied to Kratos's level, and a special mechanic where holding triangle charges it with frost. Every attack gets new movesets. There's a gauge called Permafrost that, when filled, adds frost waves to every hit. It keeps the axe combat from getting repetitive even after dozens of hours.
The Blades of Chaos exceeded my expectations as crowd control weapons. Same satisfying chain attacks from 2018, but now with their own skill tree and special triangle mechanic. Kratos spins the blades and slams them down with light or heavy attacks depending on your input. The Immolation gauge adds burn damage and small explosions to every hit. Perfect for groups.
Then there's the Draupnir Spear. The new weapon. Forged specifically to kill Heimdall, using a ring that duplicates infinitely and a spear head crafted by Brok. The Lady of the Lake forges it. It feels like a callback to Ghost of Sparta, and it became my main weapon the moment I got it. Fast, precise, and perfect for boss fights. The special mechanic detonates every spear you've thrown, and the Maelstrom gauge adds even more damage. Each attack feels centralized and deliberate. I love this thing.
The Companions
Atreus is similar to 2018 but with more developed runic attacks. The real revelation is playing as him directly. When you control Atreus, he's fast and agile, completely different from Kratos's heavy, powerful style. Every arrow makes you want to attack faster. His rage transforms him into a wolf, or in some scenarios, a bear. It captures his character perfectly.
Freya joins as a companion in certain sections. She uses ranged attacks like Atreus but also fights with her sword, drawing enemies away so Kratos can focus. Her runic abilities are elegant, befitting the queen of the Valkyries. Having her fight alongside Kratos after everything that happened between them adds weight to every encounter.
THE SHIELDS
This is what made me most hyped. The shield system got completely overhauled.
In 2018, you had one shield. In Ragnarok, there are five types, each with unique mechanics and animations.
Guardian Shield is the balanced option, similar to 2018. Double-tap L1 sends a small shockwave that breaks enemy guards.
Stonewall Shield is pure defense. Hold L1 to absorb damage, then release to slam and send a shockwave. Tank everything.
Shatter Star Shield is hold-and-release. Charge it while blocking, then unleash a massive shockwave that launches enemies.
Onslaught Shield is offensive. Press L1 twice and Kratos charges forward, shield first, delivering a massive hit.
Dauntless Shield is my shield. It focuses entirely on parrying. High risk, high reward. Every successful parry charges it, and when you release that charge, every nearby enemy gets launched. The timing window is tight, but hitting it perfectly on ranged and melee attacks alike? Nothing else feels like it.
The Traversal Problem
The exploration is mostly good. You can access every region after finishing the game, except Asgard obviously, and thankfully Ironwood. But Vanaheim's lower region is a nightmare. It's like a puzzle where you need to figure out which path actually leads somewhere. I had to turn on accessibility options just to see where I could go.
It's the one part of the game that tested my patience.
The Hateful: Jump Scare Boss
I need to talk about The Hateful. You're exploring Svartalfheim, minding your own business, and then this thing just appears. No warning. No buildup. Just sudden violence in your face. It moves too fast. Way too fast. The first time I encountered one, I genuinely jumped. It's a boss fight that starts as a jump scare and doesn't let up. These things are scattered around, and every encounter had me on edge. Mini-bosses shouldn't be this stressful. But here we are.
The Side Stories: Better Than Expected
Ragnarok's optional content surprised me. In 2018, side quests felt like distractions. Ragnarok makes them matter.
The Crater in upper Vanaheim is the standout. You explore this massive area and slowly piece together what happened there. Faye happened. Before she was Kratos's wife, before she was Atreus's mother, she was a giant warrior who fought Thor himself. Their battle was so destructive it created the crater. Frozen lightning still hangs in the air from their clash. The same frozen lightning you see when Kratos and Thor fight. Centuries later, and the impact of that battle hasn't faded. Shrines scattered throughout tell the story. Faye wasn't just hiding from the gods. She was fighting them. Learning who she really was adds weight to everything she left behind.
The Berserkers are pain given form. Scattered across the realms, these undead warriors guard gravestones you probably shouldn't disturb. But you will. And you'll regret it. They're more aggressive than the Valkyries from 2018. Faster. Less predictable. Some made me rage quit. Actually rage quit. But beating them? That satisfaction is unmatched. The Berserker King at the end is the new Sigrun.
Even smaller Favors have story weight. Spirit quests, realm-specific hunts, they all feel connected to the world instead of tacked on.
What Worked and What Didn't
Let me be honest about both.
Enemy variety is excellent, and this was my biggest complaint in 2018. The same draugr, the same trolls, eventually combat felt repetitive. Ragnarok fixes this completely. Each realm has unique enemies. Svartalfheim has its creatures, Vanaheim has jungle horrors, Asgard has Einherjar. You're constantly fighting something new, and mini-bosses throughout the game demand real attention. You can't autopilot through them. They keep combat engaging even in the late game. The emotional beats hit harder than 2018 too. Faye's dream sequence, Brok's death, Kratos learning to let go. When this game wants to make you feel something, it succeeds completely.
But the pacing is uneven. The game tries to do everything. Freya's revenge, Atreus's identity, Ragnarok itself, all the realm-hopping, all the side characters. Sometimes it sprints through moments that deserve more time. Sometimes it lingers when it should move on. It's not bad, but it's not as tight as 2018. Vanaheim's lower region is a nightmare too. The traversal there is like a puzzle designed to frustrate you. I needed accessibility options just to figure out where to go. And the Applecore in Svartalfheim? Beautiful realm, terrible mine. Too much backtracking, too many confusing paths.
Visuals: Beautiful Across the Realms
This game is gorgeous.
The addition of day and night cycles in Vanaheim, the sunny green fields of Asgard, every realm feels distinct and alive. Asgard surprised me. I expected dark and foreboding. Instead it's bright and almost welcoming, which makes Odin's nature even more unsettling. Vanaheim feels like a jungle from home, but with scars. Dense and humid, yes, but you see the ruins everywhere. The war that came after Freya left broke this place. Overgrown temples, collapsed structures, a realm trying to heal from abandonment. It feels lived-in and tragic at the same time.
And Svartalfheim? Beautiful. Vivid. Glacier. Get it? The dwarven realm is stunning in ways I didn't expect. The mines, the forges, the frozen landscapes all come together into something that feels alive and working. Traversal there isn't bad either, except for the Applecore. That place tested my patience. Too many paths, too much backtracking, too many moments of "where the hell am I supposed to go now."
But the dream sequence with Faye is the most memorable. I never imagined Deborah Ann Woll voicing Faye would make me cry like the first game did. Every word she says to Kratos, every moment of that scene, is planted in my brain.
Beautiful doesn't cover it.
Music: Bear McCreary Did It Again
He fucking nailed it. How do you take "God of War" from the 2018 soundtrack and make it more grand? I don't know. But Bear McCreary figured it out. "God of War Ragnarok" the track builds on everything the original did. Every instrument, every vocal layer, builds toward that RAG-NA-ROK chant at the end. I get chills every time. Still. Even now, writing this.
"A Son's Path" captures freedom in a way I didn't expect. When it plays during Atreus racing with Angrboda, you feel it. The weight lifting. The joy of just being young and alive without prophecy breathing down your neck. How do you make something grand even more grand? Bear McCreary knows. I don't think he's human.
The Mask and the Rift: What Lies Beyond
Odin's obsession drives everything. The mask. The rift. He sacrificed his eye trying to see what's inside it. Centuries of searching, manipulating, killing, all to glimpse what's beyond the realms, beyond even his knowledge. When the mask finally reveals what's inside the rift, we don't get answers. We get more questions. What's out there? What did Odin see that made him sacrifice so much? The game doesn't say. But it opens a door. Other pantheons exist. Other gods. Other wars. Maybe Kratos isn't done after all.
Conclusion: The Void After Ragnarok
How do I feel now that it's over? Empty. In the best way.
The Norse saga is done. Kratos and Atreus completed their journey. And I'm sitting here wondering how Santa Monica could possibly continue this franchise. Where do you go after Ragnarok? Turns out, you go to Valhalla. Santa Monica released a free DLC that answers some of these questions. It gives us the real Týr. It gives Kratos something he desperately needed. But that's a story for another review.
Is It Better Than 2018?
This is the question I kept asking myself. And honestly, it's complicated. 2018 was tighter. More focused. A father and son walking up a mountain. Simple premise, perfectly executed. The pacing never felt rushed because the scope was smaller.
Ragnarok is bigger. More ambitious. More characters, more realms, more plot threads. When it hits, it hits harder than 2018 ever did. Faye's dream sequence. Brok's death. The final battle. These moments surpass anything in the first game. But that bigger scope comes with costs. The pacing stumbles sometimes. Vanaheim's traversal is tedious. Some plot threads feel compressed when they deserved more room.
If 2018 is a perfect short story, Ragnarok is an ambitious novel with a few chapters that drag. The highs are higher. The lows exist. Overall? I think I love Ragnarok more, but I respect 2018's craft. They're different. Both are incredible. I'm grateful we got both.
Will It Stick With Me?
Fucking yeah. Some games you finish and move on. You enjoyed them, maybe you'll replay them someday, but they fade. Ragnarok isn't that kind of game.
Faye's words are burned into my brain. "Open your heart to the world as you have opened it to me, and you will find every reason to keep living in it." I think about that sentence at random moments. When I'm stressed. When I'm closing myself off. A video game quote has no business being that meaningful, but here we are. Bear McCreary's score plays in my head when I'm not even near PC. The RAG-NA-ROK chant. The freedom of "A Son's Path." The quiet devastation after Brok dies. Music that doesn't just accompany moments but creates them.
The image of Sindri, hollow and grieving, crushing Odin's soul into nothing. Not triumphant. Just done. A brother who lost everything getting the only closure available to him. That scene taught me something about grief and revenge that I'm still processing. Kratos saying goodbye to Atreus. "Loki will go. Atreus remains." A father who spent two games learning to connect, finally trusting his son enough to let him go. After everything they went through together, watching them part ways hit different. It's not sad. It's earned, and it's right. But it still aches.
The Gjallarhorn. That sound. The moment Kratos decided to start the end of the world to protect what matters to him. Chills every time I think about it. This game isn't leaving my head anytime soon. Maybe ever.
And then comes the moment that broke me completely. After the farewell, Kratos sees the back of the shrine that Angrboda showed them earlier. The part Faye painted that no one had seen. He sees himself. Drawn by his wife. Not as the Ghost of Sparta. Not as the god of war. As a god of hope. Of peace. Something Kratos never believed he could become. Faye saw it. She always saw it. Even when Kratos couldn't see it himself, she painted the man he would become. And now, standing alone after letting his son walk his own path, Kratos finally sees what she saw. I wasn't ready for that. I don't think anyone was.
But what now? Kratos has become the god Faye always believed he could be. Is he ready for that? Is he ready to be something other than war? That's a story for the Valhalla review.
