“They’re All A**holes”: God of War Director Explains Why Every God Is at War in Laufey
Santa Monica Studio has pulled back the curtain on God of War Laufey, and one blunt, unforgettable line from its creative leadership now frames the entire experience: the gods you’ll meet are, frankly, awful. That attitude underpins a daring new setting—Everywhen—where deities from across mythologies are crammed into a single afterlife with no rules, no hierarchy, and no exits.
“They’re all a**holes.”
Everywhen: A divine pressure cooker
Everywhen isn’t a tranquil resting place or the neat, top-down pantheons the series explored in the past. Picture a gilded cage stuffed with apex predators. It’s like dropping a crowd of unchecked billionaires onto a private island and walking away—everyone is rich in power, influence, and ego, and that abundance makes cooperation impossible. When no one can be contained, everyone tries to contain everyone else.
This realm mixes gods who never should have shared a stage. Heroes, monsters, and rulers from different cultures collide, their values and vendettas clashing in unpredictable ways. The result is a battlefield of ideologies and impulses, not just a war of blades.
Why every god is fighting
In Everywhen, power is a problem, not a solution. These gods have a toxic relationship with it. There’s no council, no cosmic referee. Without structure, even alliances feel temporary—ploys rather than partnerships. Petty grudges escalate quickly; grand ambitions collide spectacularly. The realm itself functions like a prison without guards, where survival favors the loudest, the boldest, and the most manipulative.
Tonally, this steers God of War into darker, more psychological territory. Past entries framed gods as rulers of clearly defined domains. Here, the domains are gone, and what’s left is the raw, often ugly truth of what power does to those who refuse to share it.
Many mythologies, one battleground
The roster underscores the shake-up. Figures like Sekhmet—the fierce Egyptian goddess tied to vengeance and plague—and Begtse—the Mongolian war deity—signal a wider lens than the series has ever used. These are not cameos; they’re tectonic plates that grind against each other. Each arrival warps the political landscape, and every meeting risks turning into a fault-line event.
Encounters are being crafted to feel weighty and character-driven, with presence and authority carrying as much impact as a swing of an axe. The promise is not just spectacle, but consequence: rivalries that evolve, grudges that matter, and clashes that leave scars on the world and its inhabitants.
Faye steps into the storm
At the heart of this maelstrom is Faye, stepping into the role of protagonist. Where Kratos often contended with orders and thrones—systems he could challenge or topple—Faye inherits a sandbox with no rules at all. Her strengths draw from a deep, natural magic, opening avenues of combat and exploration that feel organic in a world bent out of shape by divine egos.
Faye’s journey isn’t a detour from the saga; it’s another vantage point on the same mountain. Her story reframes familiar themes—parenthood, legacy, and fate—by dropping them into a realm where certainty is extinct. Navigating Everywhen requires intuition, restraint, and a willingness to make hard calls in a place where every choice invites new enemies.
Not a side tale—part of the mainline myth
Laufey’s narrative runs parallel to the events of God of War (2018) and God of War Ragnarök. It’s woven into the same continuity, designed to reverberate through the larger canon rather than sit on the sidelines. Expect threads that knot into established lore and tug at the future of the franchise.
This approach does more than connect dots; it widens the canvas. By watching the saga unfold from Faye’s perspective in a realm with no safety rails, we get a sharper view of how choice, love, and violence echo across timelines—and how gods, when left to their worst instincts, can poison everything around them.
What this means for God of War
Laufey isn’t just a new chapter—it’s a recalibration. Everywhen is a crucible where personality is the deadliest weapon and power hoarding is a religion. The series’ signature brutality remains, but it’s fused to a sharper exploration of motive and consequence. Crossing mythologies doesn’t just amplify spectacle; it raises ethical and emotional stakes.
If the guiding principle is that every god here is an a**hole, the real question becomes: who can rise above that truth, and at what cost? In a place built to crush compromise, Faye’s path could redefine what strength looks like in God of War—less about breaking the world, more about surviving it without becoming what it demands.
