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Khaslana made it to the end. Again. For the last time.
There won’t ever be another end, another recurrence. He’s completed his self-imposed mission and freed Amphoreus from its shackles. The entire world doesn’t rest on his shoulders anymore.
He should feel relieved, and proud, and maybe even happy…
Instead, there’s nothing but emptiness in his heart.
He dreamed of this new dawn for so long, but now that he’s reached it, he… doesn’t feel like he belongs there.
Khaslana tried to fit in. He really did. But you can’t just plaster a smile on your face and pretend thirty-three million years of death and suffering never happened.
The other Chrysos Heirs share tightly woven bonds, forged in adversity and blood, while he… he remains the ruthless killer who hunted them all down, cycle after cycle.
He knows none of them mean to flinch when he walks into a room. Knows it’s just survival instinct kicking in, because their brains have rightfully associated him with danger. Knows it’s not their intention to make him feel cast aside.
Yet, it hurts all the same.
Besides, even when they do attempt to reach out, he pushes them away, because he doesn’t want to put them in danger. His rage might have waned for now, shadowed by poignant longing and sorrow, but it only lies dormant. And as much as Khaslana would like to pretend he’s still human, he can’t. Not when his very core’s been irreversibly sullied by the Destruction.
Hell, he can’t even touch anyone, for fear he’ll melt their flesh off.
Which only makes the sight of Phainon and Mydei leaning into each other every chance they get all the more difficult to bear.
The vicious fire in him thrashes and nearly awakens whenever he sees them kiss, or hug, or cuddle. And Khaslana hates himself for it, hates how he can’t help but resent their happiness. Why couldn’t it be me? His heart screams as it consumes itself with covetous envy. Why do I have to be alone?
And Khaslana doesn’t have any answer for it. He can’t even say ‘Because the universe is unfair’, because it is fair to Phainon and Mydei. They deserve all this love and joy. And what right does he have to be jealous of Phainon, who keeps bringing smile after smile to Mydei’s lips, when all Khaslana ever did was abandon his cooling corpse in a pool of golden blood?
So, to avoid the anger from spiking up again, he just… stays away; from them, from the Chrysos Heirs, from the people of Okhema, from everyone. It’s the best way to protect them, to preserve their dreams, those dreams he sacrificed so much of himself for.
Often, he wonders if it wouldn’t be easier if he could just… fall asleep and never wake up. But the Destruction wouldn’t even grant him the mercy of eternal rest. This cursed, tainted body of his… No power on Amphoreus can effectively damage it.
He can’t die. Only endure.
So, Khaslana puts the weight of the world back on his shoulders, and cages himself in isolation and apathy.
Until…
The low, buzzing thrum of a portal opening. A flash of red and gold springing towards him.
Before Khaslana can make sense of any of it, strong arms pull him into a warm, tight hug. Metallic fingers sharp as claws caress his cheek with such utter gentleness it nearly makes Khaslana’s knees buckle. And a voice, so familiar it hurts, whispers through tears:
“Found you.”
Khaslana’s eyes widen in disbelief, because the man embracing him is undeniably Mydei, but…
Large wings now adorn his back, one crimson, the other gold. Yellow pikes protrude through one of his shoulders, while the other is clad in red. The necklace around his neck has merged with his body, and so have his gauntlets, bracelet, and clothes.
Red tattoos still run across his skin, but here and there, irregular cracks interrupt their course. Those gaps open on the unmistakable glow of destruction, and a power comparable to Khaslana’s own thrums through his veins.
His legs look like they’ve been molded in gold, due to his armor fusing with the rest of him. So much about of this Mydei is now all gold, gold, gold.
Golden, his hair. Golden, his eyes.
Golden, the halo shaped in the form of the Worldbearing symbol that floats above his head.
This, Khaslana realizes, is what Mydei would look like if he had absorbed an unreasonable amount of core flames to save Amphoreus.
If he were like him.
“How?”
“Parallel universes,” Mydei provides, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Given the craziness that his life has become, Khaslana doesn’t even question it. “I knew you had to exist, somewhere. And that you probably felt as lonely as I did.”
“You…”
“Lived through 33 550 336 recurrences, just like you did. And killed the Chrysos Heirs of my world nearly as many times, just as you have.”
He is telling the truth, Khaslana can tell, because the immense pain and weariness that clouds his eyes at that admission matches his own.
And his heart aches, because he hates that this Mydei had to go through the same torture as he did, but it also rejoices in that very same beat, because…
Because he’s no longer the only one of his kind. Because, for the first time in ages, someone truly understands the dolorous extent of his suffering. Because this Mydei can withstand the blunt force of his flames without getting burned.
Because he can finally hold another living being and feel warmth.
Sobs of relief shake his chest, and he leans into Mydei’s touch, pressing his cheek a bit further against his palm, desperate for physical contact. A sentiment shared, it seems, because the moment he reciprocates Mydei’s embrace, soft wings intermingle with his, tender and protective.
“Don’t leave me alone. Please. I… I can’t go on like this anymore,” He begs, voicing his own desires for the first time in 33 550 336 lives.
Mydei wipes away his tears and gently presses their foreheads together.
“I’m not going anywhere. As long as you want me, I'll be by your side.”