Work Text:
In only about a month and a half, Chronus’ life had entirely changed in front of his eyes. From where he was once a political leader surpassed by no one, not even his fellow Conclave members, he had turned to a war criminal on the run from all sorts of authorities. He was the only survivor of the four and now he was roaming the world with Faust. He originally intended to leave after they had solved what was happening with the Japanese, but he decided it would be much more productive to stay with him. (At least that was what he told himself, deep down he knew he had grown attached to Faust and he was the only friend he had left alive).
Right before Chronus had left to find what was happening with the Japanese, he had rummaged through the remains of the Central Organ Tower. He tried to find any sort of remnant of his comrades, managing to salvage the masks the other members of the Conclave wore, albeit, heavily scratched and damaged. He had taken them with him, sealing them in a pocket dimension so he wouldn’t have to deal with their weight but could pull them out at any point in time.
Tonight, he and Faust were staying in a dingy motel, Faust was already asleep from what he could tell. He couldn’t sleep at all, he didn’t feel sad about their deaths, more so guilty. He didn’t feel guilty that he may have inadvertently been the cause of their deaths, instead feeling guilty that he didn’t feel sad about their deaths. He should’ve been. Baldias had given his life trying to protect the Flashing Fang from Sol and Sin, Axus had given his life, trying to get rid of Ky, and Libraria had given her life saving him. Yet despite all of this, he didn’t feel sad about them giving their lives for the plan he had started. He felt like a monster, someone who should’ve been killed off in the Crusades. Why couldn’t he just feel sad or guilty about their deaths like someone normal?
He pulled out their masks from his pocket dimension. 1. A woman with much empathy for those they had killed in trying to enact their plan. 2. An irritable man who would do nearly anything to get the plan through. 3. A man made no longer human by the forbidden beast spell he had used. 4. He should’ve been there. He takes it off and puts it next to the other masks. He feels tears running down his cheeks. Was this guilt or sadness? He couldn’t tell anymore, it all blended into one thing that just felt like nothing. He couldn’t make a sound, there’s a lump in his throat and if he ever dared to whimper the tears would come faster. It was the first time he’d cried in maybe the past 5 decades.
The lamp turns on, he feels some sort of anxiety, he can’t let Faust see him like this. Although his face was as neutral as a pro poker player, the wetness trailing down his cheeks revealed his true nature. He had his head turned away from him and had it held down to hide it more. Faust sat down in front of him, he didn’t say anything, he just stared. He slowly picked up each of the masks except for his own before croaking out, “These, your friends?” He couldn’t say no, they were all close, some of them even tried out doing other… non-friends like things together to say the least, but at the same time, he felt he could only call them co-workers. Libraria was right in saying she wished they talked more, despite having hundreds of years together, they only hung out as friends on very rare occasions.
“They were my comrades”, was the conclusion Chronus drew. He wishes they were something more than just comrades, though maybe they were and he never realized they felt that way about him. The tears only came faster after speaking, he could no longer deny himself the right to cry. He felt Faust pull him into a one armed hug, not exactly pressing Chronus against him, but still making contact enough to share the sentiment. Chronus could only feel shame that he had to be comforted, he was hundreds of years old, he shouldn’t have to cry to a middle aged man about his sorrows. He wanted to pull away from the hug, but it also felt so nice to have some form of comfort even if he felt ashamed for wanting it.
The room suddenly feels chilled, especially in 3 odd spots, one on his head, another on his shoulder, and a final one on his thigh. He felt Faust’s other arm come loosely around him. “Need, talk?” Faust asked, wanting to comfort his wandering buddy. Chronus looked up a little before holding his head down once more after a second, “I just wish I had more time with them, though I suppose I already had over a hundred years with them, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.” Faust wiped off a tear on his cheek, “Now we, can be close… start new relationship, while can… time, limited, but precious.” That was the most Chronus had heard him talk since he had changed.
Though Chronus supposed he was right, he should start living in the present now. “Become close, comfort…” Faust took his bag off. Although Chronus already knew who was under the bag, he rarely took it off, so it was a rare and surprising sight to see his real face. The chill feels more enveloping now, like a few separate hugs at once. Faust picked him up, “Become, very close…” Chronus was starting to get confused and slightly concerned. Then he opened his mouth very wide and he was suddenly more concerned than confused, now with a healthy dosage of fear. Almost immediately after, he was gulped down, whole, the chill never leaving somehow, despite the warm and tight environment of Faust’s esophagus. When Chronus arrived in his stomach, he didn’t struggle. He felt betrayal for sure, but he knew his end would be inevitable. So with knowledge of his impending doom, he curled up tightly and waited for digestion to kick in.
It felt nice here.
Why did it not dissolve him yet?
An hour has passed.
The chill isn’t gone and neither is the feeling of his own flesh and bones.
“Why haven’t you killed me?” Chronus asks. He should be dead, a stomach is made to ravenously and indiscriminately break down anything in it, no matter if it’s alive or not. So why hasn’t it happened yet? “You, don’t die… get comfy, bed for you… like big hug”, Faust quietly said, rubbing his stomach gently, trying to soothe Chronus. Chronus couldn’t help but lean into his touch, feeling comforted by the fact that Faust was simply trying to comfort him. “You have been treating me with much respect while we’ve been traveling, why is that? You know I’m a wanted war criminal as well as the one responsible for the death of your patient all those years ago”, Chronus questioned. There was a long pause before Faust replied, “You seek a new life, not to… continue with, your past actions… you, have changed, even if it was subtle…” “I see, thank you for treating me with as much kindness as you have been”, Chronus thanked.
No words were spoken after that, Chronus simply basked in the soothing motions of his stomach. Eventually, gravity shifted as he felt Faust lay down, and soon after he heard some gulping noises followed by the four masks he and the rest of the Conclave had worn. “You had these, your friends must miss you… cold inside there…” Faust said. Chronus had thought that it was just him feeling a bit of a chill. Possibly it was a lack of blood flow caused by dehydration or simply his old age, but if Faust is also feeling it, it must be something more. And what did he mean by his friends must miss him? Until Chronus realized one of the first signs a spirit is present. The three cold spots he felt on himself earlier followed by Faust’s very own stomach feeling freezing made sense now. He wasn’t alone. However, that wasn’t a bad thing, quite the opposite if anything. Maybe Faust was right and they were more than just comrades as Chronus had put it, maybe he simply didn’t realize it when they were alive. However, now that they were with him, he was certain, they were more than that, they were always his friends. He felt stupid for doubting it. He held the masks tightly, bundling his own in with them, no longer uncertain if they were really ever close. He slowly shut his eyes, and as he did he swore he could see little glimpses of his long gone friends.
A month had passed, both Chronus and Faust had been on the move for a while, helping out people that had been hurt or were sick. When night came they stayed at a motel or when they couldn’t find one close enough, Faust would sleep on the ground and Chronus would sleep inside of him. Oddly enough the chill from his friends stayed inside of Faust, though Faust said it only appeared whenever Chronus had come into him. Perhaps they waited for Chronus, maybe they had important things to do in the afterlife. Whatever they were doing when he wasn’t there didn’t matter to him, he was simply glad that they were still there at all. One night when he had to sleep inside Faust once more, he heard odd murmurs right as he was closing his eyes. Eventually, the noise got louder and louder until he could hear actual talking. He opened his eyes again, reluctant to since he was so tired, but when he did, he was in an open meadow during mid day with a round table nearby with four chairs. There were four tea cups at the table, only his was upside down. “Hello, Chronus, can you hear us?” he looked at the person asking him. It was Libraria. “Libraria, how am I here? I didn’t die in my sleep did I?” Chronus asked, very confused about what was happening. A deeper voice chuckled a little bit, he looked over and saw Baldias. “No, we finally found a way to communicate with you, though it was hard to find how to get in here without hurting you”, another masculine voice remarked, Axus was nearby as well. Chronus stood up, trying to maintain a professional demeanor, though obviously very happy to see them once again. “I’m glad you managed to find a form of communication”, that was the last of Chronus’ professional act because he immediately broke down crying after and hugged all of them.
They all walked towards the round table, identical to the table they sat at in the tea room, Chronus flipped his cup upwards once more. “It was hard trying to find you after you started going off with Faust, he’s fairly fast and unpredictable”, Libraria stated. Baldius started speaking, “Those masks of ours are pretty useful, they were one of the only possessions interconnected with our very being as we had worn the masks so often in our lives. You putting them in a pocket dimension only made it harder, so you better be glad you pulled them out when you did.” “Unfortunately, it was hard for us to find you once more since you had put them back into the pocket dimension. We left for a little while and you had suddenly disappeared again, so we decided after we had finally found you again to simply stay in the pocket dimension you had the masks in until we found a way to communicate with you again. It was very boring, but when you had stopped to sleep in Faust, it was easy to slip out of the pocket dimension for a while to be near you”, Axus finished. “I see, so basically, it would be much easier to keep them outside of there so you can find me easier?” Chronus asked. The other three all said yes in near perfect union. Chronus nodded, after that they all talked about what life (though mostly afterlife) had been like since the Cradle incident.
Chronus woke up at the same time as usual, the chill was still there and he felt more refreshed than usual. He gently poked Faust’s stomach lining, signaling he was awake and wanted to be let out. “Good, sleep?” Faust asked. “Yeah, I want to make a request though”, Chronus said. “Hm?... what, is it…” Faust replied. “Can I put the other’s masks in you, we had talked last night and they have a hard time finding us without the masks out in the opening”, Chronus requested. Faust looked confused, but obliged anyways, he’s most likely heard weirder anyways. So Chronus took out the masks from the pocket dimension and handed them to Faust who very carefully swallowed them down one by one. They both felt a very brief chill as they walked that day. Chronus looked to where the chill was and smiled gently, glad he was in their presence once more.