God of War: Laufey: playing a dead woman in the afterlife of the gods, brilliant or a trainwreck?

For two decades, God of War ran on a simple equation: an angry man, a weapon, and everything that moves reduced to pulp. Santa Monica Studio just changed one variable, and not a small one: this time, Kratos stays home.

Announced on June 2 during PlayStation's State of Play, God of War: Laufey puts us in the shoes of Faye, Kratos' wife and Atreus' mother. Better still: the studio presents it as the next main chapter of the saga, not a stopgap spin-off. For fans, it's a shock and a promise. For us, it's the question that has haunted the series since 2018: can God of War exist without its god of war?

What we know

Let's start with the stroke of genius, because there is one. The adventure doesn't take place before the Norse saga, as the prequel rumors feared, but after Faye's funeral pyre, the one that opened God of War in 2018. We play a character the series has always presented as already dead, in the afterlife of the gods: the very Everywhen that was Odin's obsession in Ragnarok. What was just a dangling narrative thread becomes the entire playground. It's hard to think of a smarter way to justify a sequel.

And that playground is huge. The afterlife is where the deities of every mythology end up when they die. The two antagonists shown in the trailer confirm it: Sekhmet, the Egyptian warrior goddess, and Begtse, the Buddhist god of war. In other words, Santa Monica finally gives itself the perfect excuse to let pantheons collide, and potentially to put Faye face to face with familiar faces, starting with all the Greek gods Kratos methodically drained of blood.

Faye herself is no background figure. The game presents her as a formidable Jötunn giant, and her model takes after Deborah Ann Woll, who already voiced her in both Norse entries. On the combat side, Santa Monica promises to blend the Norse and Greek eras into a fluid system, and the first footage is enticing: it's snappy, readable, and already has that characteristic weight the saga's hits are known for.

What worries us

Now, let's talk about the cube. Faye isn't alone: she drags along a gelatinous, chatty companion nicknamed Frank (spelled Pharanque in the subtitles, a nice touch). In principle, a sidekick that comments on the action is series tradition: Mimir, the severed head from Ragnarok, already played that part. The problem is the tone. The first lines reek of fashionable sidekick humor, the kind of banter that defuses every bit of tension, and the community immediately bristled, bringing up Forspoken's Cuff, that companion you'd have paid to mute. If the cube backseats the player at every puzzle and fires off a quip every thirty seconds, the God of War mood is going to take a hit. That's, for now, our biggest reservation.

The second concern strikes at the saga's emotional core. The whole strength of God of War 2018 was absence: a father and son carrying a dead woman's ashes and learning to live with that void. Turning that ghost into a heroine bashing gods in the afterlife is fascinating, but it inevitably shaves down the weight of that grief. You can love the idea and still admit it slightly undermines what made the reboot so moving.

There's also a detail already making purists cough: the Leviathan Axe. The reveal ties Faye to its forging, while the canon set by God of War 2018 credits the Huldra brothers, Brok and Sindri, who crafted it for her. Deliberate retcon or marketing shortcut, Santa Monica will have to clarify, because you don't touch a pillar of the lore without expecting blowback.

As for the criticism of Faye's "rugged" design and the slice of players bothered by a female lead, we'll be brief: we don't care. A Jötunn warrior who survived in the most hostile world in mythology has no reason to look like a magazine cover. The real subject isn't her face, it's the cube and the tone.

We want to believe, but we want proof

Our stance is honest: the idea thrills us. Extending the universe through a fresh angle rather than wringing Kratos to the last drop, opening the door to every mythology, finally giving Faye an arc, that's exactly the kind of risk we dream of seeing from a first-party studio. And controller in hand, the combat looks solid.

But a trailer isn't a game. Everything remains to be proven: the dosage of that damn cube's humor, the coherence of the afterlife, and Santa Monica's ability to respect a lore it made sacred itself. No date was shown, and Jason Schreier leans toward 2027. If the studio delivers on its promises, Laufey could be the finest surprise of the generation. If it turns God of War into a blockbuster quip festival, our hearts will be heavy.

See you, probably, in 2027. Until then, we'll keep our enthusiasm cautious, and a wary eye on the cube.