Work Text:
Standing at the edge of the Vortex of Genesis, Aglaea and Anaxa gaze into the constellations scattered across the night sky. Seven of the twelve Coreflames burn brightly, their glow casting fractured light across the abyss.
For a long time, silence hangs between them. The air hums faintly with the pull of the vortex. Then Anaxa turns his head, studying Aglaea’s solemn expression. A faint chuckle slips from his lips, dry and almost mocking.
“Aglaea, dear Aglaea… What’s with that disheartened expression? Don’t tell me, after centuries of bickering, you’ve finally grown attached to my existence.”
Aglaea narrows her eyes. She turns sharply to face him, her voice steady but strained. “This is no laughing matter. You know you’ll die once you relinquish the Coreflame sustaining your life.”
Anaxa’s smirk falters. His gaze drifts back to the horizon, the glow of the Coreflames flickering in his eyes like fading embers. His voice lowers, weighted with resignation.
“I know. And I’ve long accepted that outcome. I’ve been counting down the days to my demise… like a timer on a bomb, waiting to go off.”
Aglaea’s chest tightens. She takes a step closer, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. “T-then why?” Her voice cracks with a mixture of anger and grief. “Why do you throw your life away so recklessly?!”
Her words echo against the emptiness around them. Anaxa doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence feels suffocating. Aglaea clenches her fists, her expression contorting as if to hold back tears. She blurts out again, her voice rising. “Was that grand and absurd performance what you've been seeking your whole life?”
Anaxa’s lips curl into a grim smile. His voice carries a trace of weariness, though it sharpens with conviction. “I gave up everything in search of truth… and it culminates in this very moment.”
He tilts his head slightly, his one eye narrowing with quiet amusement. “You, on the other hand, performed exactly as I expected. You did not hesitate when you saw the chance to attain power. It’s as if you…”
“...crave power the way a fly craves rot.” Aglaea cuts in bitterly, her lips curling with disdain.
Anaxa lets out a low chuckle, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smirk. “Those are your words, not mine.”
Aglaea exhales, a weary sigh slipping through her lips as her gaze drifts toward the constellations above. Her voice softens. “But what you said at the end… Did you already know what I had planned for Phainon?”
Anaxa’s hand brushes lightly over his eyepatch, where his eye once was. “I may have lost an eye, but my vision is clearer than anyone else. You’ve nearly exhausted your humanity. You’re no different from my current state as a walking corpse.”
Aglaea stiffens at his words, though she makes no move to deny them. Her voice drops to a low murmur, heavy with resignation. “That's true. I've long since burned to ash over the past one thousand years. Only he is capable of unleashing a raging fire that rivals our final great enemy… Aquila.”
Anaxa exhales slowly, his expression softening with rare sincerity. “So… this is our last chance. How about we let go of the bad blood between us?”
He extends his hand toward her, palm open, his gaze unwavering. “May I resonate with your Coreflame, Aglaea?”
Aglaea blinks, caught off guard by the earnestness in his tone. For a moment she hesitates, then nods. Her voice comes out soft, almost reverent. “Please… do.”
Anaxa steps forward and takes her hand in his. His touch is warm against her cold skin. His gaze lifts to her unfocused blue-green eyes, shining like fractured jewels beneath the starlight, and for a breath, he forgets himself, lost in their depths.
Aglaea feels his warmth seeping into her, thawing the chill she has carried for so long. A blush spreads across her cheeks, and she lowers her gaze, flustered by the way he looks at her, as if she is the only thing in existence worth seeing.
“Y-you’re staring…” She murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.
The words pull him from his trance. Anaxa blinks rapidly, a faint flush rises against his pale skin as he averts his gaze. “Ah… my apologies…”
Then, without warning, he pulls her closer, closing the distance between them.
Aglaea lets out a soft gasp, her breath catching in her throat. Their bodies nearly touch, his presence enveloping her. She tenses, then slowly yields, melting into his embrace. Closing her eyes, she surrenders to the warmth she once thought was lost to her forever.
For a heartbeat, time holds still.
From the place where their hearts align, a golden glow begins to bloom. It pulses gently, spreading outward until it envelops them both in shimmering light, as if the Coreflames themselves bear witness to their bond.
And for a fleeting instant, there is only peace.
Then Anaxa’s eyes snap open, widening in shock. His body jolts, and he stumbles back with a sharp gasp. His face is pale, breath ragged. “T-that’s… impossible.” His voice cracks in disbelief. “To persist with your soul thinned to such an extent... You're insane!”
Aglaea steadies her breathing as she lowers her gaze, her voice heavy but unwavering. “Just as you fight to lug your corpse onward to complete your unfinished goals, I have my own reasons for doing this.”
Her hand clenches briefly at her side. When she lifts her head again, her eyes burn with resolve. “Until Phainon grows into his position as the prophesied leader, I must continue to lead everyone on the Flame-Chase Journey. I must keep inching forward, even if only as an empty shell.”
Anaxa studies her in silence, the faintest shadow of regret flickering across his face. Then he exhales, half a sigh, half a laugh. “I've long predicted this was the case… but I didn't think you'd already lost so much.”
He shakes his head slowly, a bitter chuckle rumbling from his throat. “Heh, how ironic. We would have avoided so many misunderstandings if you and I had just spoken this candidly before.”
His expression softens, the edge fading into something quieter, almost solemn. He inclines his head slightly, his tone low and deliberate. “But casting aside our ideological differences, there is one thing you and I agree on.”
Aglaea meets his eye without hesitation. Her answer comes out firm, the name falling heavy between them.
“Phainon.”
Anaxa nods, his gaze drifting toward the constellations, his tone steady but touched with conviction. “Yes. He was born to be a hero. He understands the hearts of the people, and I can confidently say he is a far better leader than you. Only he is capable of fulfilling your mission.”
His voice dips, carrying a note of dissatisfaction beneath the praise. “...Sadly, he is a man cursed by Mnestia. But by my estimates, his horribly elaborate sense of style should not impede Era Nova.”
A short, incredulous laugh escapes Aglaea, her eyes narrowing with faint amusement. “Congratulations are in order. We've found common ground at the very end of our destined paths.”
Anaxa quirks a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a dry smirk. “When you put it that way, it makes me want to take back what I said.”
The flicker of humor fades as quickly as it came. He straightens, shoulders squared, his voice firm and final. “Alright, that’s enough chatter. We’ve delayed my execution longer than necessary. It’s time… we said our goodbyes.”
Aglaea stiffens, her hand instinctively lifting as though to stop him. Her voice wavers with urgency. “But the others haven’t arrived yet. Must you really be in such a hurry to end your life?”
Anaxa turns toward her, his expression calm, almost serene. “I’ve achieved everything I wanted in this life. And I’ll achieve even greater heights in the next, when I am reborn as the Titan of Reason.”
He pauses, the rare gentleness in his tone softening the edge of his words. “And besides… having more people witness my death would do them no good. It would only carve deeper wounds.”
Aglaea swallows hard, lips parting as if to speak. The words falter, heavy with unspoken fear and grief, but she finally forces them out, quiet and aching. “But… you aren’t going to say goodbye to them?”
Anaxa meets her gaze steadily, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. “I already have the person I most want to say goodbye to standing right in front of me. I have no regrets.”
Aglaea swallows hard, her hands curling at her sides. Her voice trembles slightly as she begins. “But–”
Anaxa raises a hand, gently cutting her off, his tone patient and measured. “You are a strong, confident, strategic leader, Aglaea. I have no doubt you will lead everyone to Era Nova. And there, in the new world… we shall have our reunion.”
A faint, wistful smile curls his lips, and his gaze drifts momentarily to the horizon. “Romance and Reason… two sides of the same coin. We will meet again as destined lovers, free to live the life we could not in this cycle.”
Anaxa straightens fully, his voice carrying quiet finality. “That is all I have to say. Farewell, Aglaea. May we meet again in the next life.”
He begins walking toward the spirit basin, each step deliberate, calm, unhesitating.
Aglaea’s heart lurches. Without thinking, her hand shoots out, grabbing the edge of his coat, fingers pressing hard as if the gesture could halt fate itself.
“Wait!”
Anaxa pauses mid-step, then slowly turns to face her, raising a brow in curiosity. His hand brushes the edge of her touch, not pulling away. “Yes? Is there something you wish to tell me? This is your final chance, after all.”
Aglaea swallows hard, fingers tightening on the fabric. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, pulse hammering in her ears. For a moment, all the resolve she has carried for centuries wavers beneath the weight of the moment.
She draws in a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. The tremor in her voice betrays the storm of emotions inside her.
“I know we’ve had our differences.” She begins, voice quivering slightly. “We argued over the smallest things, and I had my misgivings about you at first… but nothing—nothing—can change the way I felt the moment I first laid eyes on you, all those centuries ago.”
Her hands curl into fists at her sides, knuckles white, as she forces the words out. “The way you challenged my ideals… it was infuriating, yes. But the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself… it was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It was… captivating.”
Her lips tremble as she continues, gaze flickering to his face, searching for any sign of response. “I’ve always wanted to confess these feelings… eventually. But with the slow erosion of my humanity and the endless burden of my duties, I forgot how to speak from my heart. I forgot how to express myself at all.”
Her voice drops to a raw, desperate whisper. “And now… I fear it may be too late. Too late to act, too late to grasp what little remains of my humanity… too late for us…”
Tears shimmer faintly in her eyes as she draws one last trembling breath. “So this time, I must say this to you. Even if it’s in vain… even if it changes nothing…” She steadies herself, voice ringing with desperate sincerity.
“I love you, Anaxa. I always have. And that… has never changed.”
Anaxa lifts his hand slowly, letting his fingers brush gently against her cheek. He wipes away the tears that have slipped from her eyes without her noticing. The touch is soft, deliberate, grounding her in the moment.
“Not all is lost.” He murmurs, his voice soft yet unwavering. “Even as your humanity slowly dwindled, I never saw you differently. I always saw you as that young, sassy, spoiled little princess who would pester me endlessly while I buried myself in my studies.”
He smiles faintly, the corners of his lips twitching with fond amusement, yet his gaze remains tender and unwavering.
“That Aglaea… she is still here. And so are you. I love you for all that you are. The cold-hearted leader, the fierce strategist… and the Aglaea I first met. Every part of you matters, and nothing will ever change that.”
He leans slightly closer, so that their foreheads nearly touch, letting the warmth of his presence envelop her.
“This isn’t goodbye.” He whispers, certainty and promise threading through each word. “This is simply… see you later. I will sow the seeds of suspicion in the new world, while you weave the most romantic thing in the world.”
His gaze lingers on hers, steady and unflinching. For a heartbeat, the weight of centuries of battles and misunderstandings seems to lift, leaving only the quiet certainty of their bond.
Aglaea freezes as she feels his hand brushing her cheek and suddenly realises how wet her face has become. “I-I’m… crying?” Her voice is small, barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief.
Anaxa gently hushes her, pulling her into a warm, protective embrace. She buries her face into the crook of his neck, letting her tears soak into his robes. His hand moves in slow, soothing circles across her back, grounding her. “It’ll be alright.” He murmurs, voice steady and reassuring.
Aglaea inhales shakily, voice muffled, heavy with emotion. “I’ve woven many unforeseen events into the tapestry of fate… but I never could’ve predicted… that our relationship would end up like this.”
She lifts her head slightly, tear-streaked eyes meeting his. “Are romance and reason really a perfect pair… or are they just doomed lovers, destined to burn out together?”
Anaxa exhales quietly, one hand resting at the small of her back. His gaze drifts momentarily to the stars above, then returns to her. “I don’t know… but regardless… this really is goodbye, Aglaea. Please, don’t cry for me. We have long known our fate in this cruel, broken world.”
Aglaea closes her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “All shall bid farewell to one… and that person alone will witness the miracle. Such is the will of fate.”
Anaxa slowly releases her, his hands holding her a moment longer before letting go. A sad smile tugs at his lips, heavy with unspoken regret. “I’m sorry… but for the sake of Era Nova, this must be done.”
Aglaea wipes her tears with the back of her hand, her fingers brushing against her cheek as if trying to hold onto the warmth of his presence. “I know…”
She takes a shaky breath, chest rising and falling unevenly. Her voice carries both sorrow and resolve as she whispers one final farewell. “Farewell, Great Performer… may Cerces safeguard your thoughts.”
Anaxa leans in slowly, his breath warm against her face as his lips press to hers in one final, lingering kiss. For a heartbeat, the world falls away, and time seems to stand still around them.
“I love you, my dearest Aglaea. Remember that… and me.”
He pulls back gently, his fingers tracing her jaw as he studies her face, committing every detail to memory. With a steadying breath, he reaches to the center of his chest and pulls out the Coreflame.
A surge of golden light bursts forth, enveloping him in a radiance so intense that Aglaea shields her eyes. His body begins to shimmer, fracturing into countless tiny, luminous particles as he begins to dissipate.
Aglaea gasps, eyes widening in shock and sorrow. She reaches out instinctively, fingers brushing against his as if sheer will could keep him from vanishing.
Anaxa turns toward her, a soft, fragile smile on his lips. In the fading glow, his hand finds hers, their fingers interlocking one last time. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, raw and unguarded.
“I love you.” He murmurs, voice barely audible.
Aglaea grips his hand desperately, feeling the warmth slipping through her fingers. “I love you too.” She whispers, voice breaking as tears stream freely down her cheeks.
And then, inevitably, his fingers slip from hers. The golden particles scatter into the night, drifting upward until his form disappears completely, leaving only the echo of his presence and the lingering warmth in her palm.
Aglaea stands frozen, chest heaving, as the last glow fades from her eyes. She exhales shakily, her voice raw with grief and love. “I love you… Anaxa.”
Clunk.
The Coreflame of Reason falls to the ground, rolling slightly before coming to rest at her feet, where Anaxa had just stood. Its golden light flickers weakly, the warmth fading like the memory of him.
Aglaea stares motionlessly, her hand still suspended in the air, fingers trembling before slowly dropping to her side. Her breath catches in her throat, ragged and uneven, the silence around her pressing in like a physical weight.
Drip… drip… drip…
Her tears fall into the shallow pool at her feet, rippling the water with each drop. Her knees buckle, and she collapses to the ground. She buries her face in her palms, sobs wracking her body, each one raw and unrestrained.
For the first time in centuries, the ice encasing the heart of the cold, relentless demigod shatters completely. The years of stoicism, calculated resolve, and carefully hidden emotions—all of it crumbles.
All that remains is the young girl she once was, slowly lost to the ravages of time and the ablation of the Coreflame. Vulnerable. Broken. Human.
“Anaxa…” Aglaea whispers his name into the empty air, voice hoarse and trembling, as though speaking it aloud might bring him back.
The echo of his absence stretches endlessly around her. In that hollow silence, the weight of centuries of loss and longing presses down, leaving her raw, undone, and achingly human.
Golden particles from Anaxa’s disappearance drift faintly in the air, fading like dying embers, a silent witness to her heartbreak. The night feels impossibly still, heavy with grief, the air thick with absence.
Click… click… click…
Footsteps. Multiple. Slow and deliberate, approaching hesitantly.
“Agy…”
“Is Professor Anaxa…?”
The question hangs in the air, unfinished, swallowed by the cavernous silence.
No answer. There doesn’t need to be one.
The only sound is the raw, heart-wrenching echo of Aglaea’s sobs, shattering the quiet, bouncing off the fractured walls of the Vortex. Each ragged breath, each tear hitting the ground, feels impossibly loud in the vast emptiness.
The footsteps falter. The air grows impossibly heavy, as if the universe itself mourns. Time stretches hollow and endless, leaving nothing but grief, loss, and the lingering echo of a love that once burned so bright.