Chapter Text
Opening his eyes, Phainon(?) looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling. It was… strange.
The last thing he remembered was sacrificing himself for the well-being of Amphoreus; albeit after millions of years worth of battle and slaughter against both his friends and the Destruction. The thought brought a grimace to his face.
The more pressing matter at hand, however, was his unfamiliar environment. Forcing his aching body to sit up, he tried to observe his surroundings. There wasn't much in the room he currently occupied, rather just an open wall leading to a balcony, some scattered bookshelves, and a bedside table next to where he currently sat. There was something wrong.
He shouldn't be here. He should be fighting, not listlessly sitting around in some unknown room while there were people dying. By what felt to be instinct, he tried to reach for his sword only to find that there was nothing there. Fuck…
Was this some twisted dream?
Before he could ponder the thought, he heard the door to the room creak open. From said door came a pink haired girl adorned with pigtails. No… She should be dead. What is she doing here?
"Phainon?" She asked, looking a bit concerned seeing the man sitting up, "Are you alright?"
"You… Hyacine?" Phainon(?) asked, filled with uncertainty, squinting his eyes, "What are you doing alive?"
Hyacine didn't seem surprised at the question, rather her expression softened.
"The Trailblazer saved Amphoreus. You saved Amphoreus." She began, looking him in the eyes with a subtle determination, "The war is over. We're all… allowed to live freely now."
Phainon(?) wasn't sure how to respond. It didn't quite feel real. How? Most importantly, how was he of all people alive after he sacrificed himself?
"I don't-"
"That includes you too, Phainon," She interrupted, "We've been waiting for you, y'know."
"What?" The thought seemed ridiculous. Them, the heroes of Amphoreus, waiting for him, the destructor of Amphoreus. "No, I can't. I don't deserve this. I've… I've killed you all! Hundreds of times!"
The thought of killing any of his friends again, after countless murders, left him feeling uneasy. It felt like his breaths were escaping him, leaving him to grasp for air desperately.
Hyacine rushed to his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Breathe," She instructed calmly, "You deserve to live happily, Phainon."
He tried to calm his breathing, but his body didn't seem to comply.
"We know how much you've sacrificed for us all, we all do." That can't be true. "The Trailblazer told us."
No. There's no way. They must hate him if they knew everything like she claimed they did. He's a monster. He's no longer Phainon, but rather Khaslana, emanator of the Destruction and a murderer. No, if he was Phainon still, Khaslana wouldn't be in the back of his mind, whispering.
'You must kill them.'
'You have to save everyone. They can't live.'
'Destroy.'
Phainon(?) shut his eyes frantically and brought his hands to his head. He gripped onto his hair and wished desperately for this to be some fucked up dream.
Yet, the hand on his shoulder didn't falter, only gripping slightly harder.
"Phainon, you're okay!" Hyacine tried to comfort him, "Should I get Mydei?"
Mydei… He would be the hardest to kill, literally and figuratively.
He didn't trust himself to speak. He was scared that the voice that would leave him would be none other than Khaslana's and not his own. He didn't even want to look in a mirror out of fear of golden eyes staring back at him. So, he silently, with much hesitation, nodded.
Hyacine didn't say anything after, only removing her hand from his shoulder and walking out of the room to retrieve the prince.
The echoing whispers of Khaslana's grew louder. That retched beast within him yearns to kill. It yearns for destruction. It disgusted him, yet the urges became one with his own. What if he hurt Mydei? He couldn't bear to kill him again. Never again. It would break him far more than he already was.
A deep voice startled him out of his thoughts.
"So you're finally awake, huh, Deliverer?"
Phainon(?) stilled, not daring to look up. He couldn't face Mydei, not now. Yet the prince didn't seem to care much about that, walking up to the distraught man and stood before him with his hands upon his hips. His presence was domineering yet incredibly comforting.
They sat in silence, among each other's company, until Phainon(?) felt the thoughts slowly dissipate.
"Mydeimos…"
"Hmph, so you aren't completely out of it," Mydei scoffed with a slight softness to his voice, "Look, you have gone and secured our victory and fate for a peaceful life, so why do you look like you've lost, HKS."
He didn't know what to say. It still didn't feel real. Yet the familiar voice of Mydei and his oddly endearing insult felt real. Too real.
"I'm… not sure." Phainon(?) answered honestly, "I still feel… the Destruction. In my mind, I mean."
Even muttering the Destruction's name left him nauseous, but he tried to swallow his anxiety. This was going to be a long conversation, wasn't it…