The lost (false) demigod

[I know I'm late, but in my defense I was sick, which usually doesn't happen, and I also said we wouldn't have a posting commitment, I'm actually a very busy person, but that's beside the point. Anyway, here's the chapter, leave some reviews of the story if you can, it helps a lot with my motivation ○( ＾皿＾)っ Hehehe...]

[on a completely different note, never, and I mean NEVER, eat raw chicken, even if you know the risks and just shrug it off out of laziness, obviously I'm not speaking from experience]

[On another completely separate note, I still have a massive headache. 

So I apologize for any grammar or text construction errors. 

Just let me know what's wrong and I'll try my best to fix it. Thank you.]

[3970 words]

The wind howled through the trees, a constant companion in the frozen wilderness. The snow crunched under my boots as I headed towards the small outcrop that had become my vantage point. From there, I could see miles of endless forest, a sea of white and gray stretching beyond the horizon.

Four months.

It was strange to think how long it had been since I found myself here. I had no calendar, and no way of measuring the days, except by the marks I had started to make on the trees nearby. And yet my body had internalized the passage of time. Four months since I first stumbled into this frozen hell, confused, weak and barely able to survive. Now, I was here - not just surviving, I am more, this forest is now my friend with benefits, and one day I will make it my bitch.

This realization made me exhale slowly, watching the mist rise before disappearing into the sky.

At first, I had understood that knowledge was as important as strength. I had no idea how big this forest was or what lay beyond it. If I was going to live here for a long time - or even escape one day - I needed to know my surroundings.

So I started mapping.

Not on paper, obviously. That would have been a luxury. Instead, I used the second best thing: animal skins. The skin of the prey I had hunted served as my parchment, stretched and dried carefully before I burned some wood and used the charcoal as a pencil, not the best, but it was what I had. It was rudimentary, but it worked.

My map started out small - a few landmarks, a stream, a clearing where certain edible plants grew. But over time, it expanded.

I now had almost twelve miles of mapped territory, enough to navigate confidently without relying on memory alone. There were safe zones, places where the wildlife was passive and the terrain favorable. There were dangerous areas, places where I had encountered predators, unstable ice, or strange ruins that looked older than the trees themselves.

I even went to the remains of the portal and found some good stuff there. But that's for the future, till then this stuff is going to rest on the inside of a hollowed pine near my base. 

---

The wind howled through the desolate clearing as I made my way toward the ruins of the portal, its once-brilliant energy now reduced to a lifeless husk of jagged stone and shattered rocks. Snow had buried much of the wreckage, but beneath the ice, time had stood still—preserving remnants of whatever had been pulled through with me. I sifted through the frozen debris, my fingers brushing against strange, unyielding materials, some familiar, others entirely alien. Broken devices, torn fabric, fragments of things that shouldn't exist in this world.

---

I ran my fingers over the last leather map, tracing the crude patterns I had carved into it as I remembered my expedition to the portal. Four months ago, I was blind, wandering aimlessly. Now, I knew these lands better than I had ever known the world of my past life.

And yet, I felt that something was missing on the map, just a feeling but it kept on the back of my head: my map was incomplete, and it wasn't my fault.

But I had more important things to worry about.

The Venom serum had done more than keep me alive—it had made me powerful. My body no longer ached after a long day of running, hunting, or fighting the elements. My reflexes were honed to the point where I could catch a thrown knife mid-air without thinking. My endurance had grown so much that I could move through the snow for hours without stopping.

But even with all that, I still felt the limits of my current state.

Every morning, I tested myself. I ran miles through knee-deep snow, weaving between trees, pushing my agility further. I climbed frozen cliffs with just my hands, testing my grip strength. I trained with my weapons—throwing the trident at moving targets, using the staff to create controlled bursts of energy, and making sure every movement was instinctive.

And every night, I reviewed my failures.

There were still things I couldn't do. My speed had increased dramatically, but it wasn't enough to outrun certain predators. My stamina was impressive, but if I pushed too hard, exhaustion still crept in. My body was stronger, but it was still young—small, despite its unnatural power.

I needed more, and it was time for the second round of steroids.

I turned my gaze toward the small, protected space in my shelter where I kept the second serum. The electric blue liquid shimmered inside its vial, untouched for months. A feeling in my soul resonating with both of my weapons told me that this was the time to get on my second round of supernatural steroids.

I had waited to use it, not out of fear, but out of caution.

The first serum had changed me drastically, and I had no idea how this one would affect me. If I had used it too soon, before fully adapting to my current abilities, I could have ruined my own infant body. There was always the risk that the powers wouldn't be compatible, that they would clash in a way that weakened me instead of strengthening me.

But now?

Now, I had pushed my body to its absolute limit. I had built a foundation strong enough to handle whatever came next, and even if I know that my body has only reached the limit of my current age, a higher multiplier is always better, after all, if I can have even more benefits why would I be content with just what I have?

I stepped toward the serum. Before I knew it, I was rolling the vial between my fingers. The liquid inside almost seemed alive, swirling as if reacting to my touch.

No more waiting.

Before taking the serum, I found myself taking a moment to appreciate what I had built here. I had made this forest my home.

There were small things—things that made survival less like a desperate struggle and more like a life.

Like how I had made a fire pit that burned efficiently, using stones to trap heat so it lasted longer. How I had learned to cook different meals with whatever I found—mixing dried meat with crushed berries to create something that actually tasted good for once.

Or the wild animal that had started following me.

I glanced up, meeting the beady, intelligent gaze of the crow perched nearby—my ever-present shadow. It had been following me for weeks now, watching, waiting. A silent witness to my evolution. There was something eerie about it, an aura reminiscent of death I think, but it didn't bother me, I didn't felt any harm. If anything, it felt fitting.

"You're not even subtle anymore," I muttered, tossing a strip of dried meat. It fluttered down, snatched the food in its sharp beak, and hopped back onto its branch, satisfied.

I sighed. "Guess I have a pet now."

These moments—small, mundane, almost normal—were what had kept me from losing myself. If I had spent all four months focused only on training and survival, I would have lost my mind. The slice-of-life, the routines, the small interactions with nature—all of it help me relax a bit.

And now, I was about to change myself again.

I sat down, the serum vial in my hands, and exhaled slowly.

Applying the first serum had been an experience—like fire and lightning ripping through my veins, reshaping me at a fundamental level. This one would likely be the same.

I had already changed so much. The first serum had burned through me like molten lightning, unraveling my very essence before stitching it back together—stronger, faster, sharper. But even with my newfound strength, there were limits I could not yet break, edges I had yet to sharpen.

The second serum waited in my hands, the vial cool against my fingers. Inside, the electric blue liquid shimmered, almost alive, pulsing in rhythm with the beating of my heart. I was ready.

I exhaled, rolling up my sleeve. The cold bit at my exposed skin, but I barely felt it. Neither cold nor heat affected me anymore, all because of the staff and the trident. My pulse was already picking up, my body instinctively bracing for what was to come. I pressed the needle against my arm.

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

I pushed the plunger.

The reaction was instant.

At the beginning he felt nothing, but as if to contradict his thoughts...

Magnus gasped, his breath sharp against the frozen air

Pain unlike anything Magnus had ever known tore through his body. His veins burned as if molten iron had been poured into them, his muscles spasmed violently, threatening to rip themselves apart. His lungs seized, his vision flickered between darkness and blinding light. Every nerve screamed in protest, his bones felt like they were shattering and reknitting in an endless cycle.

He clawed at the frozen ground, gasping as his fingers carved deep grooves into the ice. Time lost all meaning—there was only agony, raw and relentless. His body twisted, breaking and rebuilding in an endless cycle. For the first time in months, despite all his strength and the powers he wielded, Magnus felt truly powerless.

(magnus pov)

then for the first time- I saw.

Not just the trees. Not just the night.

Everything.

The shadows had layers, depths he had never noticed before. I could sense the tremor of distant footsteps, feel the vibration of shifting ice, and hear the rustling of wings miles away. My senses were sharper, my awareness stretching beyond what should have been possible.

Still dazed from the lingering pain, I took a moment to steady myself, letting the ache fade with a brief rest. I flexed my fingers, watching as something sharp slid from my fingertips—talons, black as obsidian, gleaming under the moonlight. Testing their edge, I dragged them slowly across a nearby rock, feeling the satisfying resistance before it split apart like dried bark. As I shifted my stance, a familiar sensation prickled at my feet. A quick glance downward confirmed it—talons had sprouted there as well, curved and deadly, granting me an unnatural grip on the frozen ground.

I touched my teeth, feeling the elongated fangs hidden behind my lips. Instinct whispered their purpose—To inject poison. In small doses, it would merely disable and paralyze, but in greater quantities, it could be deadly. A new predatory edge to my growing arsenal.

I moved.

And the world slowed around me.

No—not slowed. I was faster. My body surged forward, leaving behind a flickering afterimage that lingered before dissolving. I leapt—and nearly cleared the height of a tree. I twisted mid-air, I easily grabbed onto a tree.. My grip had changed, my talons Piercing to the bark with unnatural ease.

I could climb. I could run. I could disappear into motion itself.

And then, I felt it—something shifting beneath my wrists. A strange, coiling pressure. I flexed my hand, and a thin strand of webbing shot forward, latching onto a branch. I yanked, launching myself effortlessly through the air before landing in a crouch.

I grinned.

Strength. Speed. Reflexes. Tactile precision. Webbing. Talons. Fangs. Vision beyond human comprehension.

But there were weaknesses too.

I winced as the moonlight struck me directly, too bright, too sharp. It was a bright full moon, its silver glow illuminating every inch of the frozen wilderness. My hypersensitivity to light was a liability. My talons required a conscious effort to retract—if I lost focus, they could extend involuntarily. And the webbing, while powerful, could be blocked, severed, leaving me vulnerable.

Worst of all? No warning system. No instinct screaming of danger before it struck.

Although my powers were very similar to Spider-Man's, They were still very different from the original.

I clenched my fists, feeling the power humming beneath my skin. I had changed. Evolved beyond recognition. But evolution was never perfect. It came with flaws, sacrifices. I wasn't just a cheap copy of Spider-Man, I had the power of another version of him—Spider-Man 2099.

And that was great.

No matter the flaws, I will make it work and go far beyond any of them.

I glanced at the crow, still perched above, its head tilted in silent judgment. "Yeah," I murmured, stretching out this new body, feeling the weight of what I had become. "Let's see what I can really do."

The frozen forest stretched before me, vast and waiting.

I smiled—and ran

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SOME DAYS LATER

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The forest had become a second skin to me, its harshness as familiar as my own breath. I'd learned to move with its rhythm, every sound and shift in the snow beneath my feet guiding my steps. Today was no different. With the trident in hand, I stalked a hare that darted nimbly through the underbrush. My enhanced senses picked up the faint rustle of its movements, the subtle tremor of the snow as it leapt. I adjusted my grip, the trident humming faintly under my touch, responding to my intent.

I flung the weapon. It sailed through the air with lethal precision, striking the ground just as the hare tried to leap away. The creature fell still, the kill quick and clean. I approached, retrieving the trident with practiced ease. It was a small victory, but every hunt meant survival—one more day in a world that seemed intent on testing me.

But then, the forest suddenly became quiet.

Not the natural quiet of winter, but an unnatural stillness, like the land itself was holding its breath. My sharpened senses had made me hyper-aware of even the smallest shifts in my surroundings—the crunch of snow miles away, the faint heartbeat of a hibernating animal beneath the frozen earth—but right now, everything felt unnervingly still.

I crouched in the shadows of a large pine tree, scanning the area. My night vision painted the world in crisp clarity, letting me see far beyond what should have been possible. Snowflakes drifted lazily through the air, untouched by even the faintest breeze. Something was watching me.

I had felt this sensation before—hunted, evaluated. It wasn't like the wolves, who stalked with unrelenting hunger. This was something different. Something deliberate.

And then I spotted her.

At first, she was nothing but a flicker of motion between the trees, barely visible against the pale backdrop of snow and bark. But as I focused, the figure solidified—a tall woman, hair the color of embers, wrapped in a fur cloak. Even from a distance, there was a presence about her, something commanding but controlled.

And beside her, partially obscured by her cloak, stood a small child.

His scent hit me before I even fully processed his presence—human, fragile, but not weak. Sickly. His heart beat faster than it should have, lighter, weaker, but steady. Even from here, I could see the sharp curiosity in his wide eyes as he peered at me from behind his mother's leg.

I slowly rose to my full height, which really wasn't that impressive. The woman's gaze locked onto me, sharp, calculating. She did not reach for a weapon immediately—but she did not relax either.

She spoke first. "You've been watching us."

I tilted my head slightly. "Not exactly. I was hunting." Even though she started watching me first, I decided not to try to correct her.

Her eyes flicked down to the trident resting loosely in my grip, then to the staff strapped across my back. I made no move to dismiss them. Even though I could have easily unsummoned my weapons, I chose not to—keeping them visible to avoid raising suspicion. Letting them see what I carried, rather than question why they had vanished, seemed the smarter choice. Her lips barely parted, her expression unreadable. She knew weapons—knew how to assess danger. I recognized that much.

The child tugged at her cloak. "Mother… who is he?"

Her fingers brushed over his shoulder, a protective gesture. "That's what we're about to find out."

I took a slow step forward, keeping my posture neutral but aware. "Magnus," I said simply. "I mean no harm."

She did not respond immediately, and I could tell she was watching me closely—measuring my movements, my voice, my intent. I wondered if she could sense it, the way the trident and staff pulsed faintly with energy, bound to me in ways beyond the physical.

At last, she gave a small nod. "Fey." She gestured toward the boy. "Atreus."

The name stirred something in me, a vague sense of familiarity that I couldn't quite place. It nagged at the edges of my mind, like a word on the tip of my tongue. I glanced at the boy, who was staring at me with open curiosity now that his initial caution had faded slightly.

"You don't look like you belong here," Fey said at last, her voice carrying the weight of someone accustomed to knowing the land. "But you've survived this long."

"I adapt."

Her gaze flickered with something—approval, perhaps? Or just understanding?

"Come," she said after a long moment. "We talk by the fire."

Fria led me through the forest, almost as deep as I had traveled before. Towering white trees, each marked with strange symbols, surrounded us, their presence radiating a subtle but undeniable energy. A barrier of sorts, ancient and powerful, protecting something hidden within. Nestled in the heart of it all stood a cabin, secluded and untouched by time. As we approached, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was stepping into a place that had been shielded from the world for a reason.

Something still nagged at the back of my mind, an unanswered question I hadn't realized I had been asking. I thought back to my map, and the way certain areas seemed incomplete in my memory. And then it clicked. The trees—the ones surrounding Fey's cabin—weren't just trees. They formed a barrier, a circle of silent sentinels that concealed this place from the outside world. It wasn't that I had failed to map it properly. Something had prevented me from even realizing it was missing. A ward? A magical boundary? Whatever it was, it had kept this place hidden.

---

The warmth of the small cabin was a stark contrast to the frozen wilds. The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows against the wooden walls. I sat near the hearth, my senses adjusting to the shift in the atmosphere.

Fey moved with quiet precision, tending to a pot of stew over the flames. She had not pressed me with questions yet, but I could feel them lingering on the edge of the silence. Atreus, meanwhile, sat a few feet away, his eyes darting toward me every few moments.

I watched him just as intently.

He was small, even for a child his age. Thin. There was a lingering frailty in the way he moved, a quiet struggle beneath his skin. But his eyes were sharp, his mind restless.

He pointed at my trident, which rested against the wall. "What is that?"

"A weapon."

"Can I hold it?"

Before I could answer, Fey's voice cut through the air, firm but not unkind. "No."

Atreus frowned, shifting slightly but saying nothing further. Fey's gaze met mine across the fire. "Your weapons are not ordinary."

I nodded slightly. "Neither is this place."

Another silence. This one heavier. As I studied them both, the pieces began to fall into place. Their names, their appearances this whole place — something about them felt familiar. Not just in passing, but as if I had seen them before, somewhere beyond this world. The realization formed slowly, creeping into my thoughts, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. If I was right, if they were who I thought they were, then I should be more cautious. I kept my recognition to myself, unwilling to share something I was only now beginning to comprehend. Not about me—not entirely—but she understood enough. This world held things beyond I had thogh, and I was not the first stranger to wander into its depths.

She finally spoke again. "You are strong for your size."

I exhaled through my nose. "The world doesn't care about size. Only strength."

She tilted her head slightly, considering. "Maybe."

Atreus, still restless, piped up again. "Are you a warrior?"

I hesitated. "Not exactly."

"But you fight."

I glanced at my hands, flexing my fingers slightly. The talons beneath my skin twitched, but I kept them retracted. "When I have to."

Fey's eyes flickered slightly at that—just a brief moment, but I caught it. She understood something in my words. Perhaps more than I did.

She finally handed me a bowl of stew. "Then eat."

I took it, the warmth spreading through my fingertips. The first real meal I had shared with another in months.

As I ate, I could feel something settling in the air. Not trust. Not yet. But something close to it.

And for the first time in a long while, I did not feel entirely alone.

...

As the fire burned lower, I finally stood, picking up my weapons. Fey watched me with quiet understanding, while Atreus looked disappointed but said nothing.

"You're leaving?" Fey asked. I hesitated for a moment, the real reason lingering in my mind. It wasn't just that I had to keep moving, or that I didn't belong here. **It was him.**

Kratos.

I didn't know if I was right in my conclusions, if he was here right now. But I knew I was not eager to test the theory. And if I'm right, I had no idea how he would react to me—what he would see me as. A stranger? A threat? or just a lost child? No, it was safer to leave before that could happen. But I kept that thought to myself.

I nodded. "yes"

A pause. Then, almost reluctantly, she spoke again. "If you ever return, bring something useful."

A flicker of amusement crossed my face. "Noted."

Atreus hesitated, then blurted, "Will we see you again?"

I turned to him, considering the question. I could feel the weight of the forest beyond these walls, the countless dangers still lurking in the cold. My battle wasn't over.

But maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't always have to fight alone.

I gave the boy a small nod. "Maybe."

And with that, I stepped back into the snow, the forest welcoming me once more.

But this time, it did not feel as cold.