Greek myths are everywhere now — in books, on stage, and absolutely smashed into video games. Still, some mythic figures got a glow-up that divorced them from their old stories. Kratos is a perfect example: today he’s a complicated antihero in God of War. Back in the day, he was simpler, meaner, and a whole lot more…functional for Zeus.
Below is a clearer, friendlier run-through of who Kratos was in the old myths, what he did to Prometheus, and how that ancient figure compares to the video-game titan. Short sentences. Sharp turns. No fluff.
Who was Kratos in ancient Greek myth?
Kratos literally means “strength.” He’s the personification of that idea — not a full-on major god with temples and cults, but definitely a force. His parents were the Titan Pallas and the Oceanid Styx. His siblings? Think of them as the other hard-hitters of divine personality:
- Zelus (zeal and rivalry),
- Bia (force, raw power),
- Nike (victory).
Together they’re basically Zeus’s executive squad. In Hesiod’s Theogony, they live in Zeus’s palace and do Zeus’s bidding. In short: they don’t get to pick sides. They follow orders.
The famous job: punishing Prometheus
Kratos shows up most memorably in the Prometheus story. Prometheus — the clever Titan who gave humans fire and useful skills — crossed Zeus. That did not end well.
After the Olympians won the Titanomachy, Zeus wanted to keep humans weak and obedient. Prometheus disagreed. He gave them fire, craft, navigation, math — you name it. So Zeus decided Prometheus needed a brutal lesson.
That’s where Kratos and his sister Bia enter. In Prometheus Bound (the classic play often linked to Aeschylus), Kratos and Bia escort Prometheus to Hephaestus, the godsmith, and force him to bind Prometheus to a rock. Hephaestus hesitates. Kratos isn’t having it. He pushes Hephaestus, he insists, and he helps make sure the punishment takes place.
The punishment itself is grisly. Prometheus is chained and left to endless torment: an eagle pecks at him daily, his body heals, repeat. Zeus intended this as a permanent sign of his power. Kratos acts as Zeus’s iron fist. He’s harsh, efficient, and—depending on how you read the texts—a little cruel.
Kratos in other myths
Outside the Prometheus scene, Kratos mostly plays a supporting role. He shows up to help other gods when force or muscle is needed. Ancient artists sometimes pictured him as winged, rushing to carry out Zeus’s will. But his appearances are few. In the myths, Kratos is less a personality and more an idea: unstoppable strength that enforces the high god’s rule.
How Kratos became a modern star — and how that differs
Fast-forward to modern times. The name Kratos gets picked up by the creators of God of War because it sounds powerful. Reportedly, they didn’t even realize he was in Greek myth at first — they just liked the Greek word for strength. Coincidence? Nice one.
The game’s Kratos is a full character: violent, deeply flawed, and eventually humanized through themes of fatherhood, guilt, and redemption. He echoes figures like Heracles and Perseus, both huge mythic heroes, and borrows the violent streak those myths sometimes have. But the game’s Kratos is far richer emotionally than his ancient namesake. Ancient Kratos doesn’t get inner monologues or soft moments. He enforces. He’s the policy, not the person.
Why the difference matters
First, modern storytelling loves complexity. Games, books, and TV can unpack a character over hours or seasons. Ancient myths often didn’t bother. Minor gods or personifications served a function in the myth — like a plot device — instead of existing as nuanced characters.
Second, the modern Kratos lets us question power. In the old stories, Kratos carries out Zeus’s will, even when it’s brutal. In the games, Kratos questions, mourns, changes. That shift changes what the name “Kratos” means to us today: from raw enforcement to a complicated struggle with violence and choice.
My take — bluntly and honestly
Kratos in the ancient myths is a bit of a blunt instrument. He exists to show how Zeus keeps order. That’s not glamorous. It’s necessary, efficient, and frankly an emotional void. Modern writers gave him feelings because we prefer broken people to walking metaphors.
Also: the Prometheus episode is one of those myths that asks us to choose a side. Do we admire Prometheus — thief, teacher, rebel — or do we nod at Zeus and accept the rule of gods? Kratos sits on the side of authority. Sometimes authority is right. Often it’s not. That gray area is where good stories live.
If you want to see the original Kratos in action, read Prometheus Bound. If you want a version that will make you think about parenting, trauma, and second chances, play God of War. Both are valid. Both tell us different things about strength: one says strength obeys; the other asks what strength should protect.
Final thought
Names travel weirdly through time. Kratos began as an idea. Now he’s a man — or an antihero who acts like one. The shift shows how we rewrite the past to answer modern worries. Strength used to be the hand that struck. Now we ask what that hand could do if it learned to hold instead.
