Chapter Text
Herta Space Station
Central Passage, Master Control Zone
“Oh wow, I didn’t expect them to get along so quickly,” Asta said, watching the two dogs interact with yips and pointed looks. The sight of a larger-than-average Samoyed next to a small Pomeranian was quite a contrast.
Anaxa kept his expression neutral as he observed them in silence.
A few scientists gave the pair a wide berth, unwilling to get involved. Peppy’s reputation as a cute menace was all too well-known among the older researchers. The younger researchers, however, stared with open curiosity at what looked like two playful dogs interacting—or rather, the smaller one bullying the larger one into submission. Eventually, like everyone else on the station, they drifted back to work or conversations.
Phainon and Peppy had moved to a different location, a place with less traffic than anywhere else in the Master Control Zone. Still near the raised platform where Anaxa and Asta were, but not enough to bother them. The surrounding noise faded into little more than background chatter—heard, but not truly listened to.
They sat side by side, one giving off an air of superiority while the other struggled to come to terms with his new reality.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” Peppy said with a snide tilt to his voice.
“I—no, I suppose it makes sense that I can understand dogs now, too,” Phainon said with a low rumble. The smaller dog unnerved him with his sarcasm. Whatever image he had of Peppy as a harmless, innocent dog was now forever ruined. He narrowed his eyes at him as though that might make the sight less absurd. It did not. “How did you know it was me?”
Peppy’s black eyes judged him as though he had just asked a profoundly foolish question. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what a nose is, kid.”
Of course. Phainon wanted to sink through the floor. Just because he had turned into a dog, it didn’t mean that his own scent had changed as well. Bracing himself, he forced out another question—equally foolish, perhaps, but driven by genuine curiosity. “Were you turned into a dog, too?”
Peppy had never struck him as an ordinary dog.
“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s a blessing not to be born as most of you slow and dull-witted humans,” Peppy yipped back, scrunching his nose in open disgust. The gesture did little to diminish how absurdly cute he looked. “Of course, not that my kind is any better. Most of them don’t even have the brains to hold a decent conversation.”
All Phainon heard was: Are you stupid?
His ears flattened, not sure how to respond to Peppy’s comment. The Pomeranian reminded him of his friend Cipher—only meaner.
“So, did No. 100 turn you into a dog or something?” Peppy asked.
“It was an accident, nothing more.” He didn’t regret what he did to protect Anaxa, even if the outcome wasn’t what he expected. Better him than Anaxa. Always.
The smaller dog let out a wheezing laugh that looked more playful than taunting. “I don’t know what’s funnier. The fact that an Emanator of Destruction was turned into a white-faced mutt, or it happened before you proposed.”
Phainon stiffened, eyes widening.
“… How did you know about that?” His voice came out cracked, less a growl than a whine. A few people nearby glanced over, startled by the sound.
“Relax,” Peppy snorted, his small pink tongue lolled out. Black eyes gleamed with barely hidden amusement. “That girl only showed me the ring. She was so proud of how it looked that she was basically showing it off to everyone she knew. Honestly, I’ll never understand the human sentiment towards accessories. It’s just a mineral on a metal.”
His body crumpled against the floor until he looked less like a Samoyed and more like a very distressed rug; he deliberately ignored the slight jab at his sense of fashion. If Stelle had been doing what Peppy claimed, then it was only a matter of time before Anaxa found out.
He covered his snout with his paws. “Do you think everyone on this station knows who it’s for?” The floor smelled like sterile titanium and baking soda, reminding him of the cleaning drones back at home.
“Who knows? Humans are slow and dull by nature, especially ones here,” Peppy scoffed. “Though anyone with a brain should have realized who that ring was for. That girl didn’t hide who it belonged to.”
“… I told her it was a secret…”
“Hah! Tough luck, kid. The Trailblazers may be many things, but they’re never known for being covert,” Peppy barked back. “You sure know how to choose ‘em.”
Phainon let out a soft whine. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in the matter. When he had left the station to help the Trailblazers, he couldn’t exactly leave the ring behind at home. The last thing he expected was for it to be confiscated, then lost. As grateful as he was to the Astral Express, he vowed to have a talk with Caelus and Stelle once he was human again.
He peeked out from underneath his paws and stole a quick glance towards the raised platform. Anaxa stood with arms crossed, deep in his conversation with Asta. It didn’t look like it was ending any time soon.
“Though,” Peppy said, giving Phainon a side-eyed glance. “I wouldn’t be surprised if half the station misunderstood who that ring was for…”
Phainon raised his head when he caught a rare sympathetic look in Peppy’s black eyes.
… Huh?
“Oh, Professor, you asked about Madam Herta. She’s been away for a long time. Did you want me to contact her for you?” Asta asked, turning her attention to Anaxa.
“No need.” Anaxa crossed his arms. He hadn’t tried to contact the real Herta yet. Hadn’t needed to. “Her dolls will be adequate for my inquiries. Is her main office still occupied?” he asked, remembering his conversation with Stelle. It was the doll in her office that he needed to talk to. Every Herta doll on the space station was programmed with different functions and queries. Rarely does the real Herta herself log onto one of her dolls to check in.
“I believe so. Madam Herta wanted to test out the newest system in her Simulated Universe. She’s currently researching their effects.”
Anaxa’s eyelids lowered a fraction. So she’s busy and in DO NOT DISTURB mode. Best to visit her office when the trailblazers leave. They would likely be here for a while if the simulated experiments had just started.
When Asta looked at him with furrowed brows, Anaxa asked. “What is it?”
“Oh, I…,” she paused. “It’s just Madam Herta’s been away for so long… do you think you… could ask her to come by once in a while?” she asked in a quiet voice. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, a sight she rarely shows in front of her subordinates.
Anaxa tried to keep the frown off his face. Despite what others may think, he and Herta did not maintain constant contact. Even though they were friends. Her interest in him rested on the fact that he was proof of a theory she had developed long ago—that all future Genius Society members were part of Nous’s calculations.
He resisted the urge to sigh when Asta didn’t budge; he didn’t know why people had signed him up to be a therapist when there were others who were perfectly capable of helping.
“I can’t speak for Herta or what she wants to do. From what I know, she entrusted you with keeping this station afloat, did she not? Her absence should be proof enough of her trust in you, Asta,” Anaxa said with an even tone.
Even as lead researcher, she still seemed painfully young to him.
Asta’s blue eyes lit up halfway at his answer, and she smiled with renewed confidence and a little something else. Was that worry?
When he noticed her shifting, with her fingers snagged on her one long sleeve, he narrowed his eyes. That was something she only did when something was bothering her.
“Out with it,” Anaxa said, or rather demanded. It was best to address it now.
The astronomer opened and closed her mouth a few times before speaking with a stammer. “I-I know it’s not my business, but… are you and Phainon… doing alright?”
Anaxa blinked, unsure of what she meant by her question. He looked at her furrowed brow and the immediate concern directed at him. “We’re fine.”
“It’s just… Phainon is usually by your side. It’s almost surreal that he’s not here with you.”
This time, Anaxa frowned. “We’re both adults; I don’t see why his absence should be much of a concern. This shouldn't be the first time we’ve spent apart.” Herta and Screwllum would sometimes invite him to help with the simulated universe on Herta Space Station. Phainon would be away on jobs during those times.
She studied him for a moment before smiling as though reassured. “You’re right, I must be overthinking it. Phainon would never leave you behind like that.”
Anaxa opened his mouth, surprised.
What?
Phainon’s ears twitched sharply as he rose. Had he heard that right?
“… did you hear? Phainon’s finally found someone.”
Why were they talking as if he had just found someone?
“… oh really?”
“… yeah, he even bought a ring for her.”
Her? Who?
“… that’s awesome, Phainon deserves to be happy with someone who cares.”
Someone who wasn’t Anaxa?
His entire body recoiled as he looked around. Voices seemed to drift from every corner of the station. The Astral Express had arrived only hours ago. What exactly did Stelle say?
Peppy scoffed, ears flattening against the chatter.
“Instead of yapping about other people, they should concern themselves with their own lives,” he complained. “Pitiful.”
“… does this mean that Anaxa’s free?” a small voice whispered. This time, Phainon didn’t hold back his growl. He glared toward the whisper. The researcher failed to notice, too absorbed in the gossip.
“Hey, watch yourself before you burn the entire station down,” Peppy yipped, his tone dropping lower than usual. “I just got my fur brushed this morning, and I’d rather not deal with all the tangles.”
Phainon lowered his body back to the ground. The destructive energy receded into a faint static, fading just as quickly as it appeared, before any damage could happen. His fur still bristled with discontent, and when he glanced down at the Pomeranian, he found Peppy’s coat noticeably more puffed than usual.
Peppy’s ears flicked as he shook out his fur. “Kid, has anyone told you that you’ve got serious problems?”
“… Sorry,” Phainon apologized, his voice rough and low. He told himself that the rumors were all baseless and beneath his attention. Still, Peppy’s concern was valid. Although Herta Space Station was equipped with the highest defense technology, none of it mattered if the threat came from within, especially if that threat was the Emanator of Destruction.
“Seriously, kid, if you wanna blow off steam, I can direct you to a few planets that no one would mind being blown up. Just don’t do it here.”
“I’m not going to blow up a planet,” Phainon said, looking at the smaller dog in disbelief.
“Yeah, and those IPC damage reports are nonexistent.”
He stayed silent. A few of his assignments had, admittedly, ended in property damage he had considered necessary. In his opinion, it had been the most efficient option. He hadn’t told Anaxa about it yet, but he was certain that his name was on the IPC bounty list somewhere.
“Honestly, I pity the fool who thinks they have a chance with No. 100,” Peppy said, scratching behind one ear with a hind leg. “You Amphoreans come with enough temper and trauma to scare off anyone with basic survival instincts. And I’m talking specifically about you, kid.”
“What exactly are you implying?”
“It means you’re a ticking time bomb,” Peppy said, his gaze far too knowing for a smart dog. “That ‘As I Written’ book that’s been going around showed me more than enough of what you’re capable of.”
Phainon frowned, feeling out of his depth. He didn’t know how many more surprises he could take from the absurdly adorable Pomeranian, who was also literate. His eyes darkened; he was sure Peppy wasn’t just referring to his strength, either, but rather the choices he made throughout the cycles.
“Humans don’t just become a Lord Ravager for nothing. There are only seven of them for a reason.”
“I’m not like them,” he spat out with a growl. Destruction may be his path, but he would never submit to Nanook’s will.
“Perhaps.” Peppy glanced toward the raised platform where Asta and Anaxa were still talking. “But it seems like the only thing holding you back from becoming one of their pawns is No. 100.”
The Samoyed followed his gaze and fell silent for a beat. Their promises to each other flashed in his mind, and with them came memories scented with mint and wheat—along with the way sunlight caught in Anaxa’s eye, turning them into a soft aqua. He could still remember the warmth of Anaxa’s hand in his.
… as well as the cold, lifeless body that had gone slack in his embrace.
“… Anaxa is my reason,” Phainon said at last, with quiet conviction. Anaxa had always been his reason, through millions of cycles, even when Phainon had tried to deny it.
Peppy yawned, small white canines flashing before they disappeared again. “There’s a fine line between love and obsession, kid. I’m starting to wonder which side you’re standing on.”
Phainon clamped his jaws shut and said nothing.