Chapter Text
Phainon was missing.
Normally, Mydei wasn't the type of person to panic or feel anxious, but it had been weeks since Phainon missed his check-in with Tribbie and Trianne, and that had been a month after he left for that damned mission in the first place. Plus, since Mydei had been on his own assignment, he hadn't actually seen Phainon in nearly three months now. Perhaps it had been the guilt regret concern over how their last conversation had ended, but it's been gnawing a pit in his stomach ever since Phainon's status was changed from "late" to "missing".
Mydei didn't even remember the exact words he'd spat out in that snap of ire, just that he'd been unreasonably angry in the moment, but Phainon would remember every syllable down to their exact intonation because of his stupidly perfect memory.
It had been such an inane thing to get mad over, too. Phainon had been curious about a Kremnoan artifact he'd acquired from Theodoros earlier that week, and Mydei usually indulged Phainon's questions with a fond ease. However, on that day in particular, Mydei had been in a rather foul mood, and the artifact—a ceremonial dagger that belonged to the royal family—only served to drive him over the edge. Mydei didn't know how Phainon hadn't been aware of his fickle temper that day. Or, maybe Phainon had known and had been trying to cheer him up.
In any case, Mydei was getting increasingly restless. Aglaea refused to send him to Phainon's last known location, but she hadn't outright forbidden Mydei from going on his own either. She had, however, managed to "distract" Mydei with minor tasks around Okhema to keep him in the holy city, but they both knew it was only a matter of time before Mydei went anyway.
And to be fair, the only real reason Mydei hadn't gone already was because the logical part of his mind knew that Phainon would be fine. He had to be fine. Mydei wouldn't accept anything less.
But… on that slim chance that Phainon wasn't okay…
(if Phainon had died and no one knew)
Mydei didn't bother telling anyone where he was going. It took him four days to travel on foot, but it was still faster than if he'd waited for a dromas to carry him there. On foot, he didn't need to take breaks.
This far out from civilization, one could truly witness the creeping devastation the black tide left on their world. It was one thing to see the ruins, to fight against the corrupted creatures and titankin, but to walk through this empty wasteland? He'd rather journey through the Sea of Souls again than stay here any longer than he had to.
Mydei was already further than any sane person would dare go, and yet for some reason, Phainon was somewhere in this godsforsaken place.
Gritting his teeth, Mydei continued to put one foot in front of the other — over and over, again and again. He'd long lost sight of any distinct landmarks, but still, he pushed on, following a pull in his chest that screamed thisway.
And then, after countless days and nights, Mydei caught sight of a figure standing on the edge of a cliff.
They hadn't moved from that spot even as he approached them. They seemed to be staring off into the far distance, not that Mydei could tell what they were looking at. Though, he supposed they could have also been deep in thought.
Once he drew near enough to identify them, Mydei paused. That stature and clothing was all Phainon, but something was… off. Their hair was longer—and more wild—than Phainon's; there even seemed to be a golden tint to it, though Mydei couldn't be sure with the red lighting from the black tide's corruption.
They still hadn't made any sign that they'd noticed him.
Mydei put himself within arm's length of them, fighting the urge to grab them by the shoulder. "Have you been here this whole time?" he demanded.
For a long moment, there was a distinct lack of reaction from them, but then, they startled, and Mydei was met with a golden gaze. Mydei's first thought was that it was like looking into twin suns. His second—slightly more delayed—thought twisted in on itself. This was clearly Phainon; Mydei would recognize that face anywhere. But it couldn't be Phainon, not with those eyes.
"Mydei?" Phainon—the stranger—questioned, his head tipping slightly to the side. "What are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you that, HKS," Mydei snapped back on reflex.
The stranger—Phainon—let out a laugh. "You sound just like him," he said, and Mydei couldn't help the confused frown that took over his expression. "But Mydei shouldn't be here. He belongs in the light. Hmm…"
The last part was more of a self-directed mumble, but Mydei heard it all the same. Did— Did Phainon think Mydei was a hallucination or something? No, more than that. What would Mydei have to do to convince Phainon that he was real?
Well, there was always that…
Phainon's gaze had gone distant again, so Mydei took him by the shoulders, hooking his leg behind the other's knee, and shoved him to the ground. This caused Phainon's attention to snap back to Mydei—as planned—but Phainon wasn't angry or annoyed or even bewildered like Mydei anticipated. No, instead, Phainon laughed.
He laughed and didn't so much as make a move to push Mydei off of him or try to reverse their positions. He laughed and stared upwards at Mydei with those gold eyes with an emotion that Mydei didn't want to put a name to. He laughed, and Mydei wanted to snarl and claw that stupid expression off of this imposter's face because this was Phainon and he should be taking this more seriously — except he wasn't.
This wasn't his Phainon.
(He didn't know why that thought hurt so much.)
"Mydei…"
Arms wrapped around him, warm hands resting against his back. Mydei tensed the instant he realized where those hands were placed. How? He hadn't even told Phainon where his weakness was located, so how—?
"Mydei," the imposter whispered breathlessly, and those warm hands tugged him closer.
Mydei hated it — all of it.
The way that gold-tinted hair fanned out behind Phainon's head on the sand dusted ground like a halo. They way those sun-like eyes looked at him with such adoration and fondness. The way his honeyed words fell from his lips, full of certainty and sincerity.
(He wanted this from his Phainon, not this imposter.)
For some godsdamned reason, Mydei let himself be drawn in. He lowered himself into the sheer heat of the body beneath him. It was like sitting right next to a raging furnace, the threat of being burned a distant thought.
"Yes, just like that. These dreams are so few and far between. Please, indulge me just a little longer," Phainon sighed, his voice wistful and longing.
Torn as he was in the midst of his whirlwind of thoughts, Mydei's heart ached. If this had all been a trap created by some great mastermind, it was well done. His tenth thoracic vertebrae wasn't his only weakness after all.
(If Mydei took a moment longer than he should have to revel in this warm embrace, that was for him alone to know.)
Amassing his resolve, Mydei lifted himself up and swiftly brought his head back down. A resounding crack split the air. His forehead throbbed, but the pain was well worth the stunned expression he was met with as he sat up.
Golden ichor smeared the imposter's face. He was lucky that Mydei hadn't broken his nose.
"Fool! This is no dream," Mydei snarled, a scowl firmly in place. "And you can tell me who you are, and where my Phainon is."
Not-Phainon blinked up at him slowly — not unlike a dazed chimera. "Your Phainon?" he repeated numbly.
And then, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Mydei could literally see the moment when the words fully registered in Not-Phainon's mind.
He sat up abruptly, and Mydei would've fallen to the wayside if Not-Phainon hadn't had the forethought to hold onto him. For an embarrassing moment, Mydei's brain got stuck on the fact that he was sitting on Not-Phainon's lap—
"You're real," Not-Phainon said, as if that was some sort of grand revelation, which—for him—it probably was. "But this is—"
He cut himself off and looked around. It wasn't with that distant gaze either. Not-Phainon was actually looking at their surroundings with a confused expression that was slowly turning into one of concern.
"Did I break something? I don't know how, but this is definitely the Recurrence Cycle," Not-Phainon muttered under his breath. He pressed a hand against his mouth, the other tapping a rhythmic pulse—in time to his heartbeat—on Mydei's back. "Which one…? Mydei's here, so it has to be…"
Not-Phainon trailed off, and his gaze slid back to Mydei, who had patiently waited for him to finish.
"What year is it?" Not-Phainon asked, the question directed at him for once.
Mydei's frown deepened, but he obliged the imposter with an answer. "Year 4930. It was Month of Evernight when I set out to find Phainon," he added for the sake of clarity.
Not-Phainon's expression mirrored his own. "You came looking for me—? Your Phainon," he quickly corrected at Mydei's scathing glare. "Why would you be looking for him here? If it was the mission Aglaea sent me— him on for Lady Tribbie, he would have been near the Abyss of Fate."
"And yet he's been missing for several weeks now," Mydei snapped, the words coming out harsher than he intended.
Thankfully, Not-Phainon didn't seem offended by Mydei's shortened temper. "I wonder…" he started before trailing off and shaking his head. "No, never mind. Multiple iterations can exist within a Recurrence, let alone a Cycle. I'm sure he's somewhere."
Mydei wasn't sure what exactly that meant, but he got the feeling that this imposter wasn't possessing his Phainon's body at the very least. But then, where was Phainon? Mydei had come all this way. He couldn't return without him now.
As if sensing Mydei's thoughts, Not-Phainon graced him with a reassuring smile that did nothing to soothe Mydei's increasing worry.
"I'll help you look for him," Not-Phainon promised, and that did take some of the edge off of Mydei's inner turmoil. "Oh! So this doesn't get too confusing for all of us, you can call me… Khaslana."
Khaslana? Mydei supposed that the name suited him. He had long-since suspected that "Phainon" wasn't actually Phainon's true name, and this all but proved it. Not that Mydei cared.
Phainon was Phainon.
"Now, let's get out of this place. Staying here can't be good for your sanity," Khaslana declared, standing and pulling Mydei up with him.
Mydei leveled him with a flat stare. Why was Khaslana talking as if—?
All of a sudden, Mydei found himself elsewhere. A rush of nausea hit him as the world and his brain caught up with each other. Fighting the need to hurl, he staggered, but Khaslana's hand on his arm served as a steady anchor.
"Sorry, plane shifting can be rough. But I've been told that if I warn you about it, it's ten times worse," Khaslana told him, rubbing small circles where he still held contact.
Once Mydei didn't feel like he was about to heave up his guts, he took a moment to see where Khaslana had taken them. To his mild surprise, it was Janusopolis. Or, at least, he thought it was Janusopolis. He'd only been here a handful of times before.
"How did we get here…?" Mydei questioned, dumbfounded.
"I took us into my Territory and then brought us out the same way," Khaslana said proudly. If he'd had a tail, it'd be wagging vigorously. "As long as I've been to the place before, I can take us anywhere."
Though he would only begrudgingly admit it, Mydei could follow the unspoken train of thought. If Khaslana was right about remembering coming here, then Phainon should also be here. Because Khaslana was Phainon — a Phainon. A Phainon from some future that had "broken something" and ended up here in this past… Cycle? Recurrence?
That was the best Mydei could put everything together without a direct explanation, which he doubted he'd be getting. Mostly because he didn't want to ask. How could he? It hardly seemed real in the first place.
(maybe it really all was just some strange dream)
"Let's see…" Khaslana mused, turning away as he looked around. "This should be the general area, but if Phainon's been missing for a while, then…"
Both of their gazes were drawn to the edge of the nearby ledge, which dropped off into a dark void.
Mydei's heart skipped a beat. Surely Khaslana didn't actually think Phainon had fallen down there. Chrysos Heir or not, none would survive that kind of fall, especially not without divine intervention.
"Be right back."
Mydei blinked, and then there was an empty space where Khaslana had been standing. Mydei decided that was going to become very annoying very quickly. He silently prayed that Phainon didn't develop a similar habit.
"—ere we go."
All of Mydei's grievances slipped away at the sight of Phainon's limp form in Khaslana's arms.
Phainon didn't wake up.
Not when Mydei took him from Khaslana with a gruff "I can carry him."
Not when Mydei brought both of them into Okhema through a discreet entrance.
Not when Mydei observed from the side as Hyacine looked Phainon over.
Not when Mydei watched Aglaea try to interrogate Khaslana.
Phainon didn't wake up, and all Mydei could do was wait.
In the meantime, while Aglaea had deemed Khaslana a "temporary ally," she had also made it clear that she didn't trust him, which Khaslana had simply shrugged to. However, even with Phainon currently indisposed, it wouldn't do to have two supposed individuals who looked remarkably similar walking around the city and causing minor instances of chaos — Aglaea's words, not his. Khaslana had then demonstrated his ability to alter his appearance.
Gold bled from his eyes and hair until they were looking at… well, at Phainon.
"Better?" Khaslana had asked, sounding more amused than he had any right to be in Mydei's opinion.
But Aglaea allowed it.
Then came housing arrangements. Despite his comatose state, Phainon was physically fine, so Aglaea decided that it would be best to simply make him comfortable in his chambers. One of the Chrysos Heirs would check in on Phainon when available but preferably at least once a day. As for Khaslana…
"I can just stay in Phainon's chambers. I don't need to sleep, so it's not like I'll need the bed he's using," he reasoned. "And if you want me to fill in for him, then it'll be weird if I'm not coming and going from those rooms."
Mydei hated how logical Khaslana made it all sound.
If only Phainon was awake. If only Aglaea didn't have to be so wary of others—especially the Council of Elders—learning about Phainon's condition. If only Mydei had been faster. If only he hadn't argued with Phainon that day. If only he had journeyed with him.
If only, if only, if only—
"Why the long face?"
Mydei tensed. But, forcing himself to relax his stance, Mydei turned to meet that face, which both did and didn't belong to Khaslana. His only solace was that Khaslana couldn't quite "fix" his eyes to completely match Phainon's — the Ring of Kephale in his iris dimly glowed, regardless of the lighting.
"Am I not allowed to be concerned over the well-being of my comrades?" Mydei replied flatly.
Khaslana let out a short hum, stepping within a respectful distance of Mydei's personal space. "I didn't say that," he replied. "I'm just expressing my own concern… for a friend."
"Is that what we are?" Mydei asked, mostly rhetorically.
He knew it was futile to resist Phainon's—any Phainon's—overtures of friendship. If he wanted to be friends, then you would be. The man was too stubborn for his own good; once he latched on to something, he didn't let go no matter how hard you tried to shake him off. And yet, Mydei caught a flash of hurt pass across Khaslana's face when Mydei glanced his way, but before Mydei could make anything of it, Khaslana buried the expression behind a lopsided smile.
"If you'll let me be," he said, and Mydei couldn't help but wonder what had happened between them for Khaslana to sound like that.
Nostalgic. Wistful. Heartbroken.
Turning his gaze to the ongoings of the city streets below, Mydei scoffed lightly. "Do what you will."
Thankfully, it seemed that Khaslana still recognized the way Mydei gave his unspoken permissions. Khaslana smiled at him like Mydei had been the one to usher in the dawn after a long night. Mydei didn't know how to feel about it.
Khaslana inhaled loudly and stepped forward to lean again the balcony's railing. Wind tussled his hair, and sunlight kissed his pale skin. With Khaslana's eyes closed, Mydei was almost fooled into thinking this was his Phainon. But there was always that subtle difference that separated the two, and Mydei still couldn't quite put his finger on it.
However, like this, Khaslana looked… serene.
"Did you know?" Khaslana said, breaking the easy silence they'd fallen into. "Even after experiencing millions of Recurrences and finally reaching the end, I never thought I'd be back here again. But, for some reason, I'm glad it was this one."
Mydei pursed his lips, not quite frowning. "Why this one?" he asked.
Khaslana tipped his head to give Mydei a teasing look. "That'd be ruining the surprise!" he exclaimed, but then he winked and pointed up at the sky. "Since it's you, I'll give you hint: Amphoreus will receive visitors from beyond that sky, and they will pave a new way forward."
Blinking slowly, Mydei mulled over Khaslana's words — a prophecy in its own right. He believed him; he truly did. And Mydei already knew that would become a problem later.
"What about you?" Mydei found himself asking.
This time, Khaslana was the one caught off guard. He startled, looking at Mydei with a dumb expression.
"Huh?"
"You're here too," Mydei pointed out the obvious. "Will you be aiding us as well? I noticed you never actually answered that question when Aglaea was interrogating you."
A low chuckle slipped from Khaslana's lips, and Mydei finally caught a glimpse of Khaslana's true self. It was half mad with rage and burned with hatred, yet it was tempered by an unyielding resolve. Millions of Recurrences, that's what he'd said just minutes ago. Yes, Mydei thought to himself, anyone would lose themselves after that.
And yet, here Khaslana was.
"If it's up to me, I could break us free from the Cycles early, but I can't do it yet," Khaslana answered sincerely. "You'll understand why when they arrive."
Those visitors from beyond the sky.
They must have been extremely important to Khaslana, for him to speak of them with an underlying tone of reverence. No, not just reverence… Absolute trust — with not only the world but also himself.
(How long did Mydei have before Phainon, too, was swept away by them?)
Time passed.
Phainon still hadn't woken up.
Mydei helped cover for his absence with Khaslana as best they could. But every once in a while, someone made a passing remark that Phainon seemed a bit different that day. Khaslana would always put on a smile and say something like "oh really?" And if that didn't work, Mydei would drag them away before Khaslana could dig himself into a deeper hole.
After such an "incident" occurred one too many times for Aglaea's liking, she started sending Khaslana out on various missions that didn't involve interacting much with anyone who would've already known Phainon. This worked for a while, but then Khaslana began requesting to be sent specific places. He even let himself be injured on purpose just so he had a decent excuse to see Hyacine, who he could have visited in the Twilight Grove like a normal person—
Mydei took in a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly.
"You seem troubled, Lord Mydei."
Was it that obvious? "Have you had the pleasure of meeting him yet, Miss Castorice?" Mydei grunted.
"I presume you mean… Lord Khaslana. No, not yet," Castorice replied, shaking her head.
Mydei let out a light scoff. "He'll probably try to give you a hug when you two do meet." At her concerned frown, Mydei sent a dismissive wave of his hand in her direction. "From my understanding, Khaslana's existence does not conform to Amphoreus's own. If anyone could bypass your Touch of Death, it would be him."
"I'm glad you have so much confidence in me, Mydei, but I wouldn't put that kind of pressure on Miss Castorice," Khaslana said, walking up to them from the Hero's Bath's upper-level entrance. He greeted Castorice with a kind smile. "Hello, Miss Castorice."
"Lord Khaslana," she returned, bowing politely. "Thank you for your consideration."
"We can try it though, if you'd like," Khaslana added anyway. "I've never been to the Netherworld before, and I'm sure you'd be able to guide me out should something go awry."
"L-Lord Khaslana," Castorice protested, and Mydei rolled his eyes.
But something made him pause as he mentally reviewed the words. "What do you know?" Mydei demanded, narrowing his eyes at Khaslana.
However, instead of answering, Khaslana raised a finger up to his lips. "That's a secret," he whispered loudly. Then, more seriously: "It's something for Miss Castorice to discover on her own."
"I will endeavor to heed your… advice, Lord Khaslana," Castorice said before Mydei could get a word in.
Fine. Whatever. It wasn't meant for him anyway.
"Do you want to know another secret, Miss Castorice?" Khaslana asked her.
Castorice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "That depends, I suppose. About what?"
"Well, I was going to make it specific," Khaslana replied. "But I'll let you decide the topic. Don't worry — if it's something I truly don't know or can't tell you, I'd say so."
Now Mydei's interest was piqued as well, though he was loathe to listen in on something that would potentially end up very personal for Castorice. However, when he made to leave, Castorice's hesitant glance made Mydei stay. And from the looks of it, Khaslana himself didn't really mind either way if Mydei left or stayed.
"Umm… My apologies," Castorice stammered. "Please give me a moment to come up with a question."
"Take your time," Khaslana assured her. "I can start with something small." He glanced at Mydei. "Like a certain someone's chimera channel—"
Mydei's eyes widened, and he lunged to cover Khaslana's mouth. "Not a word more," Mydei growled.
Though Mydei couldn't feel the grin on Khaslana's face through his gauntlet-covered hand, he could see it from the way Khaslana's eyes curved — playful and teasing. Mydei was about to tear into Khaslana for daring to reveal his private past time, but then he heard a soft giggle, and he understood: Khaslana was trying to make Castorice comfortable around him — both of them.
(Castorice never did get around to asking her question that day, but perhaps it was for the best. Besides, she got plenty of inspiration for her next writing session.)
On a rather normal afternoon during the Month of Gate, Phainon woke to the worst headache he'd ever experienced. He groaned, rolling over in his bed and raising an arm to shield his eyes from the light pouring in from his window, and for a brief moment, he wondered what in the world he'd gotten up to last night to make him feel like he'd been run over by a herd of dromases. Then, the memories of "last night" came rushing back to him.
Such a stupid mistake. He had been distracted, lost in his thoughts—
Phainon immediately sat up and looked around. This was definitely his room, not a guest room at the Twilight Grove, so maybe his little tumble hadn't been so bad after all…
That's when Phainon noticed it: the faint sound of a page turning.
For some reason, his brain associated the sound to Mydei. Though, maybe it wasn't a completely absurd connection. Phainon knew that Mydei had a private collection of books hidden away in his chambers here in Okhema, even if he'd only caught glimpses of it through Mydei's doorway.
But…
Phainon felt a weight at his side, and a quick look told that it was—surprisingly—Mydei, who was somehow still asleep despite all of Phainon's movement.
So, who was reading a book?
He doubted it was Aglaea, who would trust her threads to tell her if he was awake rather than waiting here. Hyacine and Castorice would have left when they saw Mydei sleeping. Tribbie and Trianne wouldn't have been this quiet. Trinnon maybe? But she would've said something by now.
Phainon forced himself to tear his gaze away from Mydei's (ethereal) sleeping form to the person sitting on the other side of his bed. At first, Phainon was confused, thinking he was looking at a mirror or maybe a memory fragment. But this "mirror" didn't reflect his person, nor did it have that blue crystalline appearance of Oronyx's visions.
Phainon just kept staring, even as that other person flipped to the next page of the book his was holding. He didn't dare break the silence. Mydei was sleeping.
Mydei must know who this other person was, knew him enough to sleep—to leave himself vulnerable—in this person's presence.
(Why did that spark a burning fire in his chest?)
Phainon opened his mouth — only to be cut off by the other's sharp look. He flinched at the sight of those golden eyes.
"Not too loud," the other warned quietly. "It took me way too long to finally get him to pass out."
Phainon glanced back down at Mydei. He could see what the other meant. The dark circles under Mydei's eyes were more prominent than Phainon remembered ever seeing on him before.
He frowned. Just how long had he been… out of commission?
As if sensing his inner turmoil, the other spoke up once more. "It's been about three months since Mydei and I brought you back to Okhema. Aglaea's had me pretending to be you while you were unconscious."
Three months? Phainon almost didn't believe him, but…
"Don't feel bad. I doubt it's your fault you've been unconscious so long," the other said. "If anything, it's probably my fault."
Phainon frowned. "Who are you?"
The other smirked. "You, obviously. I would make you guess how far into the future, but that honestly wouldn't be very fair."
"Quit messing around, Khaslana," a rough voice growled.
(It took everything in him to not flinch upon hearing that name.)
Phainon's gaze snapped back to Mydei, who was pushing himself up from where he'd been resting against the bedside. "Mydei—"
Mydei shot Phainon a heated glare, and Phainon quickly shut up, biting back a smile. Mydei had never been a morning person. He couldn't imagine being woken up from a well-deserved nap would have the prince in any better mood.
"Mydei," Phainon started again in a softer tone, and thankfully, Mydei only huffed an acknowledgement. "It's good to see you."
It truly was.
Even if it had already been months for Mydei, Phainon still remembered their last parting like it was only hours ago. He'd been trying to help, but perhaps he'd pushed too hard. That was on him for not understanding what his dearest friend needed in that moment.
"Learn to leave well enough alone, Deliverer."
(Why did he always seem to mess things up?)
"Don't do anything stupid like that again. You made everyone worry."
Surprised, Phainon looked up from where his gaze had fallen to his lap. Mydei had averted his own gaze, but Phainon could tell the words had been meant with sincerity. Had something happened while he was asleep?
"Did you miss me, Mydei?" Phainon teased lightly, leaning in close.
Mydei scowled at him, but it wasn't a heated look, not like when Mydei was truly angry. "Yes, you idiot," he spat, and Phainon couldn't help but be reminded of a hissing cat. "Are you happy now?"
Eyes wide, Phainon's brain stuttered.
Did— Did Mydei really just—?
"Uh oh, I think you broke him," the other—"Khaslana"—said from his chair.
Snapping himself out of his stupor, Phainon decided that he didn't like the way the other sounded so amused. "You," he directed at Khaslana, trying to keep his expression neutral — though if Khaslana's knowing smirk meant anything, he could see right through Phainon. "You said you're me. How? Aren't you creating a paradox?"
Khaslana shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure how I got here," he admitted. "But as long as I don't leave, things should work out."
Phainon mulled over Khaslana's "solution". On one hand, it sounded like utter nonsense. On the other hand… It wasn't as if Khaslana hadn't had months to already think about this.
"What about the time you came from?" Phainon shot back. "You can't just abandon everyone there. What if they need you?"
Khaslana shrugged again. "For all you know, I was on death's door when I got put in this time," he pointed out.
He had avoided actually answering Phainon, and they both knew it.
"Were you?" Phainon pushed.
"Enough."
A gauntleted hand wrapped around Phainon's wrist. Phainon looked over to see Mydei giving him a warning look, and Phainon felt the sting of betrayal pierce his chest. Why? Shouldn't Mydei be on his side in this? Mydei knew better than anyone what it meant to—
"Okay, now you're just making me feel bad," Khaslana sighed. "For the record, I was quite literally in the middle of nowhere. No one will notice if I'm gone for a little while and go back there eventually."
Phainon couldn't help the disbelieving expression that pulled on his face. What kind of logic was that?
"Well, maybe Nanook will, but THEY can wait," Khaslana added absently, and Phainon got the impression that it wasn't really meant for them to hear.
Before Phainon could even think to ask, Mydei's grip on Phainon's wrist tightened, and Phainon glanced his way just to see Mydei shake his head. But Phainon also noticed the way Mydei's expression had tightened as he stared at Khaslana. Phainon followed his steady gaze and saw that the odd light in Khaslana's eyes had shifted, turning them a molten gold with something else gleaming behind that bright color. And maybe it was a trick of the light, but Phainon could've sworn that his eyes were tinted with red as well.
(Later, when Phainon and Mydei were alone in the room, Phainon would question Mydei about those brief moments, and Mydei would purse his lips and answer slowly that Khaslana had… lapses of pure rage and utter hatred that were barely held back by sheer force of will. Phainon would look down at his hands, which trembled slightly, because he could only imagine what would bring him to become like that.)
For the longest time, he believed that this was all just a lovely dream. But… the more he invested in this beautiful dream, the more he wanted it to become reality.
After all, wasn't this vastly preferable to the world he left behind?
(that empty space where Amphoreous used to be)
He had been lying to them — to himself, really.
He had told them to call him Khaslana, but that wasn't quite right. He'd given up that name, passed it on to the Trailblazer of his universe long ago. So, maybe it wasn't the world that was the dream but instead "Khaslana".
Here, he could pretend that he got everything right the "first" time. Here, he could pretend—even if only for a little while—that he wasn't an Emanator of Destruction. Here, he could pretend that this face was still his.
But now, once more at the end of everything, he had to accept that this wasn't a dream, that this was indeed reality, that there was no room for even the slightest mistake.
He knew what he had to do. He'd known from the moment he laid eyes on this world's Phainon.
"No, I'm not Phainon, no matter how much I desperately wish to be."
There was only one way to truly free Amphoreous. They had failed before, but he could do it this time. He actually knew what he was doing and had more than enough power to do it. At the very least, it helped that the Scepter didn't seem to acknowledge him as part of simulation. If anything, the Scepter had identified him as an administrator.
It was fitting, he supposed.
After all, he is Irontomb.